.  if Tfl COLOfi ICAL  SEMIN  iPt Y.  I 

;| — Eaaiiceton^^'.  ^ 

BX  7795   .G65  A3  1852a 
Greer,   Sarah  D. 
Quakerism 


Digitized  by 

the  Internet  Archive 

in  2015 

https://archive.org/details/quakerismorstoryOOgree 


QUAKERISM; 


OR 


THE  STORY  OF  MY  LIFE. 


BY  A  LADY, 

WHO  FOR  FORTY  TEARS  WAS  A  MEMBER  OF  THE  SOCIETY 
OF  FRIENDS. 


PHILADELPHIA. 
J.  W.  MOORE,  193  CHESTNUT  STREET. 
1852. 


PRINTED    BT   I.  ASHMEAD. 


CONTETs^TS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE. 

Reasons  for  writing — Ancestry — Emigration  to  Ireland— My 
home — Orangewoman's  ideas  of  dress — First  school — Knee 
Worship — Mental  occupation  in  INIeetings  .13 

CHAPTER  H. 

Visit  to  Cork — Immigration  of  souls  from  Purgatory — Bible 
reading — Old  Dolly — Chapel  of  the  Presentation  Convent — 
Church — Quaker  servant — Novels — Pious  roguery — Teachers.  24 

CHAPTER  III. 
Monthly  Meeting — Contrast  in  character — Story  of  a  robber — 
Executions — Archbishop  of  Tuam — Girl's  school — Value  of 
tears — Pious    pockets — Preachings — Robbery — Visit    to  an 
elder — Novels — Return  home  36 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Home — Dress — Piety  in  pattens — Inanity  of  Quakerism — Quar- 
terly Meetings — Friend  Brown's  effrontery — Masquerades — 
Christ  called  a  principle  and  not  a  person — Borrowing  money 
— The  sisters — Ben  and  his  breeches  pockets — Ignorance  of 
use — Husband  and  Wife — Intemperance — The  Resurrection,  60 


IV  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

PAGE. 

Curious  preachings — Printed  Creed — Sermon  against  shells, 
corals,  and  natural  curiosities — Unwillingness  of  Friends  to 
speak  in  Meetings — Guides — Travelling  Friends — Women 
Preachers'  Families — Broad  Brims  to  escape  disownment — 
Poor  Committee — Provincial  schools — False  accusation.    .    .  77 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Friend  Flannil,  the  American  Minister — Funeral  Sermon  at 
the  Grave — Sudden  Death — Gresham's  Hotel — Escape  from 
a  Knave — Family  Visit — Dress — Visits  from  the  Overseers 
about  Drawing — French — Similarity  of  Popery  and  Quakerism.  93 

CHAPTER  VH. 
Applications  for  membership — William  Abbenger's  visit  and  ser- 
mon to  persons  under  twenty-one  years  of  age — Friend  Sailors 
— Shipwrecked  Girls — Escape  from  Quakerism — Dublin  Year- 
ly Meeting — Receipt  for  making  a  red  round  of  beef.    .    .  .118 

CHAPTER  Vni. 

Public  Meeting  at  Enniscorthy — Scene  at  the  Inn  there — The 
great  Friends  visit  our  city — Establish  a  Ladies'  Society — 
Government  interferes  to  prevent  visiting  the  Gaols — Quaker 
scruples — Difficulty  of  being  consistent  145 

CHAPTER  IX. 

London  Yearly  Meeting — Various  concerns  brought  before  the 
Women's  Meeting — Bible  read  in  public,  and  the  reader  sent 
to  the  Mad-house — Great  Dinner  at  Mildred  Court — Awful 
Sermon — King  George  IV.- — Frustrated  attempt  to  penetrate 
the  mysteries  of  the  Women's  Meeting  166 


CONTEXTS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Page. 

Hat  Worship — Marriage  Ceremony — English  Customs — Igno- 
rance of  Friends — Method  of  paying  tithes — Tribute  of  respect 
to  the  EstabUshed  Church — Advice  about  dealing  exclusively 
with  Friends — Evidences — Venerable-looking  men  chosen  to 
sit  in  the  galleries — Committing  the  Scriptures  to  memory,  for 
the  sake  of  repeatuig  in  Meeting,  forbidden  189 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Speculation — Anecdote  illustrative  of  the  value  of  riches — 
Theatre  better  than  Church — Quaker  idea  of  what  dissipation 
really  is — Manoeuvring  for  a  husband — Elopements — Feel- 
ings— Education  unnecessary  for  a  Preacher — Persecution — 
Friend  Gregory's  method  of  taking  revenge — Disownment  and 
its  consequences  213 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Country  Meetings  in  England  and  Wales — The  Ethiopian  and 
the  Leopard — Bonnet  and  Hat  essential  to  Friends'  worship — 
A  doubtful  Minister — Sleepy  old  Friend — Dry  Meetings — 
Exhortation  to  assist  in  the  ministry,  and  honour  promised  to 
reward  compUance — Story  of  poor  Mary — St.  Paul's  want  of 
politeness— Sitting  on  Dress — Funeral  Customs — Schism — 
Overseers'  method  of  getting  Information — Wedding  at  an  Inn.  235 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Retrospect — Radicalism — Devonshire  Overseers'  Advice — Inde- 
pendents— Wesle3'ans — Plymouth  Brethren — Cathedral — Cu- 
rious  custom — Return  to  Ireland — Adventure  with  Smug- 
glers— Jacob  Rules — A  First  Day  Morning  Meeting — Bal- 
1^ 


vi 


CONTENTS. 


PAOK. 

lyhaganites — Reasons  for  joining  the  Society — A  Convert — 
Music  mistaken  for  Hebrew — Ignorance  and  its  results.    .    .  257 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Dealing — visits  to  prevail  on  me  to  send  in  my  resignation — 
Yearly  Meeting  Sermons — The  Garret — English  Overseers  visit 
in  Disguise — Ministers'  Sitting — Disowned — Chancery  suit, 
a  punishment  for  shghting  Women's  preaching  280 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Stories  of  the  Sand-man,  the  Meal-man,  and  the  Elder — Ado- 
ration of  the  Quaker  Dress — Cleverly  Scroggins — Slipping 
into  Heaven — Disbelief  of  eternal  punishment — Appeal — Petty 
persecution — Tithe  Stories — Chancery  Suit — Munificent  Do- 
nations— Vindictive  Punishments  305 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

White  Quakers — Favourite  Texts — Sidcot  School — Providential 
Thunder  Storm — Indifference  to  Sin — Youth's  Meetings — 
Sunday  Schools — Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper — Conclusion.  329 


PREFACE. 


It  is  with  a  humiliating  feeling  of  my  own  incom- 
petence for  the  task  I  have  undertaken,  that  I  pre- 
sume to  offer  these  pages  to  the  public  eye.  Circum- 
stances over  which  I  have  had  no  control,  have 
occurred  to  liberate  me  from  the  painful  feelings 
which  might  deter  others  from  speaking  of  the  sys- 
tem in  which  they  are  incorporated.  No  desire  to 
place  myself  ostentatiously  before  the  public  has  in- 
fluenced me  ;  indeed  I  would  have  shrunk  from  reveal- 
ing my  personal  experience,  but  that  anxious  to  do 
good  to  the  Society  to  which  I  once  belonged,  I  could 
not  hope  to  succeed  in  that  effort  without  a  simple  de- 
tail; and  therefore,  I  resolved  to  narrate  what  has 
come  under  my  own  observation,  and  that  which  I 
know  to  be  authentic.  Every  scene  I  have  delineated 
is  drawn  from  nature ;  every  circumstance  I  have  re- 
lated is  substantially  true.  I  have  carefully  abstained 
from  exaggeration,  and  repeatedly  thrown  the  veil  of 
obscurity  over  the  record  of  scenes  which  too  strong- 
ly developed  the  subject  I  was  treating. 


Viii  PREFACE. 

So  very  little  is  known  of  the  mystery  of  Quaker- 
ism, and  so  established  is  the  character  of  the  Society 
for  respectability  and  morality,  that  I  am  quite  pre- 
pared to  find  myself  accused  of  ungenerous  and  ma- 
licious motives  for  writing  ;  but  persuaded  that  truth 
is  after  all  the  most  powerful  weapon  which  can  be 
employed  to  accomplish  any  purpose,  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  place  it  conspicuously  forward,  and  on 
it  alone  I  rely. 

I  have  found  it  impossible  to  compose  my  sentences, 
so  as  to  make  my  meaning  intelligible  to  Quaker 
minds,  without  using  the  phraseology  of  the  Society ; 
and  this  I  hope  will  be  accepted  as  an  apology  for 
what  might  otherwise  be  considered  as  quaint  and 
inelegant. 

As  a  fire  which  has  not  been  stirred,  will  burn 
away,  and  become  so  choked  up  with  ashes  as  to  be 
incapable  of  yielding  warmth  or  light,  and  requires 
not  merely  a  gentle  application  of  the  poker,  but  a 
strong  and  vigorous  stirring  up,  to  dislodge  the  burnt 
out,  and  rekindle  the  good  coals,  so  I  conceive  the 
Society  of  Friends  now  needs  a  thorough  good  rous- 
ing ;  for  the  ashes  have  accumulated,  and  well  nigh 
put  out  the  fire.  "  The  Beacon,"  a  few  years  ago, 
gave  a  very  decided  stir,  and  there  was  a  little  corner 


PREFACE. 


ix 


brightened  up  by  it.  "  Holj  Scripture,  the  test  of 
truth,"  stirred  it  again;  but  all  too  gently;  and  now 
my  rough  hand  attempts  to  scatter  the  ashes,  and 
rekindle  the  spark  of  life-giving  heat. 

My  chief  motive  for  writing  is,  because  I  see  the 
precious  souls  of  so  many  Friends  perishing  for  lack 
of  knowledge ;  the  blind  leaders  have  led  and  are 
leading  the  people  astray ;  and  I  would  hope,  that  by 
reading  the  nonsense,  which  when  heard  is  generally 
allowed  to  pass  away  from  the  memory  without  leav- 
ing any  impression,  and  by  permitting  common  sense 
to  assume  its  due  empire,  some  at  least  may  be 
ashamed  any  longer  to  submit  to  so  degenerate,  and 
may  I  not  add,  so  demoralizing  a  creed. 

The  Society  of  Friends  profess  to  be  a  religious 
and  a  Christian  corporation ;  can  they  then  object  to 
come  to  the  light  that  their  deeds  may  be  made  mani- 
fest ?  And  if  they  do  object,  is  it  not  conclusive 
that  they  are  conscious  their  deeds  will  not  bear  to  be 
investigated,  either  by  common  sense  or  Scripture  ? 
Hitherto,  Quakerism  has  enjoyed  an  immunity  which 
no  other  public  body  in  the  land  has  claimed  or 
sought  for.  The  public  press  has  not  been  allowed 
to  bear  upon  it.  Amongst  themselves,  the  censorship 
of  the  press  is  actually  tyrannical.    The  Quaker  purse 


X 


PREFACE. 


has  SO  often  been  lavishlj  poured  out  to  punisli,  by 
the  heavy  costs  of  a  lawsuit,  every  person  or  news- 
paper that  dared  to  publish  anything  derogatory  of 
their  wealthy  and  commercial  fraternity,  that  now  no 
one  thinks  it  worth  the  risk  of  offending  such  implaca- 
ble adversaries. 

To  consider  the  Society  of  Friends  as  a  religious 
body,  is  a  monstrous  stretch  of  imagination.  Respec- 
table, active,  intelligent,  benevolent,  useful,  wealthy 
and  influential,  they  undoubtedly  are ;  but  a  man  may 
be  all  this,  and  yet  devoid  of  that  religion,  without 
which,  he  can  never  hope  for  life  eternal. 

The  ridiculous  nonsense  of  many  of  the  scenes  I 
have  related  will,  doubtless,  annoy  the  Friends ;  and 
those  who  have  not  attended  the  Meetings,  or  previous- 
ly known  the  curious  discipline  of  the  Society,  may 
perhaps  imagine,  that  the  men's  Meetings  are  more 
sensible  than  the  women's ;  they  will  be  greatly  mis- 
taken who  do  so ;  the  women  are  infinitely  the  most 
religious  portion  of  the  community.  There  are  twenty 
women  preachers  or  more,  to  one  man.  But  when  the 
Bible  is  superseded,  the  commandments  neglected, 
and  man's  imaginings  allowed  to  assume  the  place  of 
the  law  of  the  Lord,  what  can  the  Christian  expect  to 


PREFACE. 


xi 


meet  but  error  and  folly,  delusion,  and  alas !  a  soul- 
destroying  system  of  self-deception. 

Should  Friends  venture  to  intimate  that  as  an 
anonymous  wi'iter  I  have  presumed  to  step  beyond  the 
line  of  truth,  or  even  to  colour  my  pictures  too  high- 
ly, I  am  ready  to  meet  them  in  a  second  edition,  which 
cannot  be  called  for  too  soon,  and  in  it  to  give  not 
only  my  own  name,  but  also  the  true  name  of  every 
single  actor  in  my  drama,  the  place  and  time  of  each 
circumstance,  and  the  original  documents  from  which 
my  story  is  condensed. 

In  performing  a  task — which  may  be  considered 
an  invidious  one,  and  will  no  doubt  be  reprobated  by 
Friends,  as  it  is  designed  to  strip  the  Society  of  the 
flimsy  covering  which  has  so  long  shrouded  its  work- 
kings — I  am  cheered  with  the  hope,  that  the  souls 
now  perilled  by  the  false  and  specious  system  may  be 
roused,  ere  too  late,  and  that  a  determination  may 
spring  up  to  refuse  the  silly  babblings  of  those  inca- 
pable preachers  who  now  infest  the  Society,  and  to 
insist  on  the  Bible  being  read,  and  its  truths  preached. 
The  Apostle  Paul  commands,  that  if  even  an  angel 
from  heaven  should  attempt  to  preach  any  other 
doctrine  than  that  revealed  in  Holy  Writ,  he  should 
not  be  received,  as  all  other  is  counterfeit — is  base 


xii  >  PREFACE. 

coin,  which  will  not  pass  current  in  that  day  when 
the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  revealed,  and  judged 
according  to  the  glorious  Gospel  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  Eternity  is  not  a  fable,  neither 
is  the  judgment  day  an  hypothesis ;  therefore  it 
behooves  Friends,  as  well  as  all  other  men,  to  make 
their  calling  and  election  sure.  Many  and  many  a 
Quaker  has  sunk  into  the  sleep  of  endless  death, 
lulled  into  a  false  security  by  these  blind  guides. 
How  can  an  unconverted,  an  unregenerate,  an  unen- 
lightened mortal  point  a  fellow-sinner  to  the  Chris- 
tian's rock  of  safety  ?  They  know  it  not  themselves  ; 
and  the  slang  language  they  adopt  to  disguise  their 
ignorance,  is  ruining  their  own  souls,  as  well  as  those 
who  depend  upon  them.  "  Faith  cometh  by  hearing, 
and  hearing  by  the  Word  of  God."  Let  then  the 
"Word,  the  written  Word,  the  Holy  Scriptures,  be 
taken  for  a  guide,  as  they  are  indeed  the  only  safe 
guide  to  steer  a  mortal  man  through  the  perils  of 
time,  the  temptations  of  the  devil,  and  the  snares  of 
the  world,  in  safety  to  the  grave,  and  to  the  judgment 
which  must  follow  it. 

Dublin,  April,  1851. 


aUAKERISM. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Reasons  for  writing — Ancestry — Emigration  to  Ireland — My  home— 
Orangewoman's  ideas  of  dress — First  school — Knee  Worship- 
Mental  occupation  in  Meetings. 

I  HAVE  often  asked  myself,  Can  it  be,  that  the  story 
of  the  life  of  an  obscure  Quakeress  would  interest  the 
public  ? 

It  is  said,  that  every  page  of  social  hfe  has  already 
been  unfolded,  that  every  phrase  of  domestic  manners 
has  been  portrayed;  but,  as  I  have  never  met  any 
thing  in  print,  that  was  at  all  like  the  life  I  so  long 
led,  I  am  tempted  to  hope,  that  these  pages  may 
have  the  charm  of  novelty,  if  nothing  better,  to  re- 
commend them. 

It  is  true  that  Friends'  libraries,  contain  many 
volumes  of  memoii'S.  The  Hves  of  many  Friends 
have  been  written ;  but  as  these  books  must,  before 
they  are  published,  be  subjected  to  the  severe  censor- 
ship of  the  "Morning  Meeting,"  by  which  they  are 
unsparingly  curtailed  of  all  matter,  which  it  is  thought 
desirable  to  conceal  from  public  view,  they  are  but 

9 


14 


ANCESTRY — EMIGRATION. 


partial  records.  Besides,  it  is  only  the  lives  of  per- 
sons who  have  been  prominent  in  the  Society,  and 
who  have  reflected  credit  on  it,  by  their  public  preach- 
ing, or  eminent  situation,  that  it  has  been  thought 
worth  while  to  commemorate. 

I  hope  I  am  not  mistaken  in  imagining  that  the 
true  and  simple  record  of  what  passed  before  my 
eyes,  may  prove  both  instructive  and  interesting. 

In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  when  religious  perse- 
cution assailed  the  Quakers  on  every  side,  several 
families  of  them  banded  together,  resigned  both  titles 
and  estates,  and  emigrated  to  Ireland.  Amongst  these 
men  was  one,  who,  though  he  had  lost  an  Earldom, 
had  retained  much  wealth.  He  was  my  father's  an- 
cestor ;  and  a  portion  of  the  lands  he  purchased,  are 
in  my  brother's  possession  to  this  day.  My  mother's 
family  came  from  England  also,  but  at  a  much  later 
period.  They  came  to  Ireland  likewise,  to  obtain 
freedom  to  worship  God  according  to  the  mode  their 
own  conscience  or  feelings  demanded.  We  were  often 
taunted,  and  called  a  proud  family;  and  if  it  is  good 
to  confess  one's  faults,  I  may  as  well  own  that  we 
quite  deserved  the  name,  for  we  were,  aye,  and  are, 
proud  of  our  descent  from  the  noble  and  the  good ; 
and,  the  moral  excellence  of  one  ancestor,  and  the  in- 
tellectual superiority  of  the  other,  have  been  as  mag- 
nets to  attract  us  on  the  road  to  virtue.  And  perhaps 
the  sacrifices  they  made,  to  obtain  mental  freedom, 
have  influenced  their  descendants,  in  these  degenerate 
days,  to  assert  that  right  to  liberty  of  thought  and 


MY  HOME. 


15 


action,  which  the  Society  of  Friends  now,  forbids  its 
members  to  exercise. 

My  father  was  a  wealthy  merchant,  and  an  exten- 
sive landed  proprietor.  Our  dwelling,  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  town,  stood  in  a  lawn  of  about  ten 
acres.  The  garden  was  large,  and  as  well  as  the 
conservatories  and  shrubberies,  was  always  kept  in  the 
most  complete  and  elegant  order.  My  mother  had  her 
chariot ;  we,  girls,  had  a  handsome  open  barouche,  for 
my  father's  own  use  was  a  stanhope ;  and  there  was 
the  jaunting  car  for  every  body.  There  were  seldom 
less  than  six  horses  in  the  stable,  and  often  more ;  for 
my  brothers  were  fond  of  riding,  and  were  first-rate 
horsemen. 

My  father  bore  a  more  than  unblemished  charac- 
ter. There  was  not  a  man  in  the  city  who  stood 
higher  in  general  estimation.  Our  Bishop,  Dean,  and 
the  noble  and  learned  representatives  of  both  county 
and  city,  greeted  him  with  a  cordial  shake  of  the 
hand  when  they  met.  He  was  a  learned  man;  had 
graduated  at  Trinity  College;  and  could  speak  and 
write  both  the  French,  Spanish,  Portuguese  and 
Dutch  languages ;  in  addition  to  an  accurate  acquain- 
tance with  Greek  and  Latin.  Besides  all  this,  he  was 
conscientiously,  and  scrupulously,  a  plain  Quaker. 
Having  passed  through  all  the  minor  gradations  in 
the  Society,  such  as  clerk  and  overseer,  he  was  at  last 
appointed  an  Elder;  after  having  for  five  years,  at 
each  succeeding  Quarterly  Meeting,  when  the  ofiice 
was  pressed  upon  him,  declined  it.     And  when  at 


16 


orangewoman's  ideas  of  dress. 


length  he  yielded  to  the  desire  of  the  Meeting,  and 
suffered  his  name  to  be  enrolled  amongst  the  Elders 
of  the  Society,  it  was  in  very  great  humility  of  mind, 
and  fearfulness  of  heart,  lest  he  should  prove  unwor- 
thy of  so  high  a  nomination. 

My  father's  lofty  descent,  his  wealth,  liberality, 
education,  his  character  as  a  citizen,  and  his  ardent 
attachment  to  the  principles  of  the  Society,  caused 
his  family  to  rank  high,  and  gave  them  pre-eminence 
in  all  the  Meetings.  The  best  and  foremost  seats 
were  offered  them  in  Meetings ;  and  out  of  it,  their 
society  was  courted. 

My  childhood  was  a  very  happy  one.  Six  brothers 
and  sisters  of  us,  sporting  about  our  beautiful  lawns ; 
and  surrounded  with  every  conceivable  comfort  and 
luxury,  with  which  my  mother's  care,  and  exquisite 
taste,  had  embellished  our  home ;  we  were  all  happy ; 
I  well  remember  how  often  I  thought  myself  supreme- 
ly so. 

The  first  time  that  I  became  aware  of  our  Quaker- 
ism, Avas  when  I  was  very  young.  My  sister  Ellen 
and  I,  were  standing  at  the  hall-door,  watching  some 
baskets  of  oranges,  which  two  old  fruit  women  had 
brought  for  sale.  One  of  them  was  an  old  acquain- 
tance, the  other  a  stranger.  I  suppose  they  thought 
us  too  young  to  mind  speaking  before  us,  for  one 
said — "  I  thought  you  told  mc  that  Mrs.  Peregine  was 
very  rich,  and  just  look  at  them  children,  how  ugly 
they  are  dressed?"  "Oh!  no,"  said  the  other,  "it 
is  not  ugly  they  are,  but  she  is  a  Quaker,  so  she 


OUR  CROSS. 


17 


dresses  them  pretty  and  plain,  for  that  is  her  notion 
of  duty,  the  cratm\"  The  oranges  were  bought,  and 
the  fruit  women  went  away.  But  the  mysterious 
connection  between  my  mother's  duty,  and  our  ugly 
dresses,  puzzled  me.  I  did  not  know  before,  that 
they  were  so  ugly.  As  I  had  then  no  intercourse 
whatever  with  the  people  of  the  world,"  I  had  no 
idea  how  other  children  were  attired ;  and  we  were 
undoubtedly  the  best  dressed  in  our  own  Meeting. 
Oui'  first  day  frocks  were  made  of  beautifully  fine 
cambric,  with  rows  of  herringbone,  exquisitely  work- 
ed, over  each  of  the  six  tucks.  Our  Friends'  bonnets 
were  of  the  richest  and  most  delicate  drab  silk ;  and 
our  silk  tippets,  to  match,  had  a  row  of  stitching  over 
the  broad  hem,  instead  of  the  plain  running.  I  could 
not  understand  why  our  dress  was  called  ugly  by  these 
poor,  shabby,  barefooted  women;  and  after  keeping 
the  matter  in  my  mind  for  weeks,  at  last  I  summoned 
corn-age,  and  asked  my  father  himself  to  explain  it. 
A  smile  spread  itself  over  his  dear  grave  face,  as  he 
said,  it  was  quite  time  for  me  to  understand,  that  it 
was  a  rule  of  our  Society,  that  we  should  dress  plain. 
''But,"  he  added,  "do  not  think  it  ugly,  and  what 
matter  what  those  poor  women  think  or  say."  He 
then  explained  to  me,  that  "plainness  of  speech,  be- 
havioiu"  and  apparel,"  was  a  cross  which  Friends  were 
given  to  bear  in  the  sight  of  the  world,  as  a  testimony 
against  the  vain  fashions  and  vanities  of  life,  by  which 
others  were  ensnared  and  led  away. 

The  matter  ended  there,  though  I  was  not  satisfied, 
2* 


18 


FIRST  SCHOOL. 


nor  could  I  understand  it.  But  it  was  a  great  com- 
fort to  know,  that  my  father  did  not  think  it  ugly ; 
and  I  felt,  as  if  rather  elevated,  at  the  idea  of  supe- 
riority over  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  proud  of  having 
a  cross  to  bear. 

Soon  after  this  I  was  sent  to  a  day  school,  kept  by 
a  lady,  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  She  was  not  a 
Friend,  and  the  greater  number  of  her  pupils  were 
not  neither.  Some  few  were.  I  was  very  strictly 
charged  to  remember  that  I  was  a  Friend — not  to  say 
you  to  any  one ;  and  not  to  pick  up  any  unfriendly 
habits  or  words. 

It  was  a  great  event  to  me,  and  I  felt  quite  elated 
when  mounted  on  a  well  appointed  donkey,  and 
attended  by  the  old  coachman,  carrying  my  books,  I 
set  off  for  school  for  the  first  time.  But  before  I 
reached  the  house,  I  had  to  endure  a  great  mortifica- 
tion. The  rude  boys,  out  of  the  cabins,  stared  at 
me,  shouted,  and  I  distinctly  heard  them  saying — 
"  Oh !  look !  there  is  a  little  ^  thee  and  thou '  on  a 
donkey!"  And  "oh!  what  a  bonnet  I"  And  some 
of  them  ran  after  me  the  whole  way,  singing  out, 

Thee  and  Thou  the  Quaker's  cow." 

The  mistress  received  me  very  kindly,  but  she  too 
vexed  me ;  for  I  saw  her  smile  at  my  bonnet  as  she 
untied,  and  placed  it  on  a  table  among  all  the  other 
children's  straw  bonnets.  I  saw  that  it  was,  indeed, 
a  very  ugly  thing,  but  there  was  no  time  to  think 
about  it  then  ;  I  was  hurried  into  the  school-room, 
and  formally  introduced  to  my  twenty-three  fellow- 


FIRST  SCHOOL. 


19 


pupils.  Oh  !  how  they  all  looked  at  me  !  They  did 
not  say  so,  but  I  felt  satisfied  that  they  thought  me 
very  ugly ;  and  I  almost  hated  myself  for  my  odious 
Quaker  dress.  But  this  was  only  the  beginning  of 
my  troubles.  After  a  little  time,  I  was  desired  to 
learn  a  task,  which  seemed  to  me,  unreasonably  dif- 
ficult. It  was  twelve  words  of  two  syllable  spelling. 
I  looked  at  it  in  despair,  and  then  said,  "  I  tell  thee 
Charlotte,  I  never  could  learn  such  a  long  lesson." 
She  smiled,  and  the  girls  all  tittered.  I  saw  they 
were  laughing  at  me ;  and,  vexed,  mortified,  and  puz- 
zled to  know  the  cause  of  my  annoyance,  I  looked 
about,  and  seeing  the  sash  of  a  low  window  up,  which 
opened  into  the  garden,  I  sprang  out,  and  ran  down 
the  walk ;  and  when  quite  out  of  sight,  sat  down  on 
the  grass,  and  indulged  myself  with  a  good  hearty  fit 
of  crying. 

I  was  just  beginning  to  get  tired  of  that  amuse- 
ment, when  one  of  the  girls,  a  little  older  than  my- 
self, came  and  sat  down  beside  me.  She  looked  so 
pretty,  and  was  so  kind  and  gentle,  that  she  soon 
wiled  me  out  of  my  bad  temper,  and  then  I  asked  her 
why  they  all  laughed  at  me  ? 

"Why,"  said  she,  "it  was  so  funny  to  hear  you 
say  Charlotte  to  Miss  Vivier,  and  you  said,  'I  tell 
thee ' — we  never  heard  any  one  say  such  a  thing  be- 
fore. You  may  call  me  Sophy,  and  you  may  call  all 
the  girls  by  their  names,  if  you  like  it,  but  you  must 
never  be  so  rude  as  to  call  Miss  Vivier,  anything  but 
Miss  Vivier." 


20 


KNEE  WORSHIP. 


"But,"  said  I,  "  I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude,  only  I 
am  a  Friend,  and  Friends  are  not  allowed  to  say  Miss 
to  any  one.  And  sure  thee  would  not  have  me  be  so 
wicked  as  to  say  you  to  any  one." 

"Well,  no  matter  now,"  said  Sophy,  "but  come 
back  to  school,  or  Miss  Vivier  will  be  angry  with  us 
— you  will  be  wiser  in  a  few  days." 

We  returned  together,  and  as  we  entered  the  room 
I  observed  that  Sophy  made  a  slight  but  very  grace- 
ful curtsey.  I  was  very  sorry  to  see  her  do  so  bad 
a  thing ;  for  not  long  before,  I  had  heard  a  plain 
Friend  speaking  about  the  "people  of  the  world" 
curtseying,  and  she  called  it  "  knee  wwship ;"  so  that 
I  was  quite  horrified  when  Miss  Vivier  called  me 
over,  and  said — "Miss  Peregrine,  do  not  leave  the 
room  again,  without  asking  permission,  and  then  go 
out  by  the  door,  not  by  the  window ;  and  when  you 
come  into  the  room,  make  a  curtsey,  as  all  well  taught 
young  ladies  do.  Go  back  now,  and  come  in  as  you 
saw  Miss  Sophy,  just  now."  * 

I  w^as  afraid  to  speak,  lest  they  should  laugh  at  me 
again.  So  I  obeyed  with  a  very  bad  grace,  for  it  was 
against  my  conscience,  and  made  a  very  awkw^ard 
kind  of  a  full  stop  at  the  door,  which  was  allowed  to 
pass  for  that  day.  I  was  very  glad  when  the  time 
came  to  go  home ;  and  as  the  car  had  been  sent  for 
me,  I  had  no  more  annoyance  from^  the  rude  boys. 

Mamma  met  me  at  the  door.  She  saw  the  traces 
of  tears,  and  asked  the  cause.  I  told  her  all.  She 
smiled  and  kissed  me,  and  told  me  not  to  fret  about 


COXSCIEXCE. 


21 


such  things,  that  it  was  no  sin  at  all,  to  say  Miss  or 
yon,  either,  or  to  curtsey.  That  as  papa  liked  us  to 
be  Friends,  and  use  the  plain  language,  we  must  do 
so  among  Friends,  but  that  there  was  not  one  word 
about  such  things  in  the  Bible. 

Well  then.  Mamma,  said  I,  if  it  is  no  sin  to  say 
Miss,  because  it  is  not  forbid  in  the  Bible,  it  would 
be  no  sin  to  give  me  a  straw  bonnet,  for  that  is  not 
in  the  Bible  either,  I  am  sm^e."  Oh !  how  fondly  I 
loved  her ;  when  I  saw  her  dear  face  smiling  again, 
and  she  desired  me  to  go  call  back  the  car,  and  she 
would  take  me  to  town  and  buy  me  a  straw  bonnet. 
She  did  so,  and  all  my  vexations  ceased.  The  girls 
congratulated  me  next  day  on  my  pretty  bonnet ;  and 
though  my  attempted  curtsey  was  still  only  a  full 
stop  ;  and  though  I  sometimes  forgot  myself,  and  said 
thee,  yet  I  felt  as  if  a  mountain  had  fallen  off  me, 
and  to  my  great  surprise  I  had  no  pricking  of  con- 
science, which  I  was  fearful  would  have  tormented  me, 
as  it  always  did  when  I  told  a  lie,  or  stole  anything 
nice  out  of  the  closet  at  home. 

I  continued  at  that  school  for  three  years.  My 
companions  there,  are  all  scattered  over  the  face  of 
the  earth,  or  lie  hid  beneath  its  bosom.  I  soon  lost 
sight  of  them ;  but  Miss  Vivier,  my  clever,  sweet- 
tempered,  affectionate  teacher,  continued  to  be  my 
friend  until  a  very  short  time  since,  when  it  pleased 
the  Almighty  to  recall  her  to  himself,  from  the  fond 
husband  and  cherished  family  to  whom  she  was  most 
dear.  She  was  married  to  a  most  estimable  gentle- 
man, soon  after  I  left  her  school. 


22 


MEETINGS. 


I  was  always  afterwards  allowed  to  wear  my  straw 
bonnet  in  summer,  and  a  drab  beaver  in  winter,  every 
where  except  at  Meeting.  Going  there,  I  had  to  put 
on  the  cold  stiff  badge  of  the  Society. 

Oh !  what  a  weariness  those  long  formal  first-day 
Morning  Meetings  were  to  me  !  Sometimes  I  would 
resolve  to  be  good,  and  try  to  think  holy  things.  It 
was  impossible.  I  could  not  keep  on  for  two  hours 
at  a  time,  thinking  religion,  without  getting  any  ex- 
ternal help.  Our  meeting  was  a  very  large  one.  We 
had  five  women  ministers,  and  one  man.  He  was 
then  only  just  ''acknowledged,"  and  seldom  spoke; 
and  when  he  did,  he  shook  so  much,  and  his  voice 
trembled  so  greatly,  his  eyes  were  shut  very  tight, 
and  his  two  large  hands  spread  out  on  the  gallery 
railing,  that  it  was  quite  an  awful  thing  to  me,  to  hear 
him,  though  indeed  I  never  then  thought  of  attending 
to  the  purport  of  his  sermons.  They  were  not  in- 
tended for  the  comprehension  of  a  child. 

There  was  one  of  the  women  ministers  who  seldom 
spoke,  but  I  liked  to  see  her  stand  up.  I  could  un- 
derstand her.  She  would  say  something  like  this : — 
"  Since  I  took  my  seat  in  this  Meeting,  these  few 
words  have  been  greatly  impressed  on  my  mind.  Oh ! 
that  my  people  were  wise,  that  they  would  consider 
their  latter  end !"  She  rarely  gave  utterance  to  a 
longer  sentence,  and  though  she  did  jerk  it  out  in  a 
very  extraordinary  manner,  still  it  was  pleasant  to 
hear  her. 

Then  there  was  Mary  Dalton;  she  was,  as  our 
Friends  used  to  say,  "very  large  in  the  ministry." 


MEETINGS. 


28 


She  could  keep  on  for  an  horn*  and  more  at  a  time.  I 
have  by  me  a  book,  containing  some  dozens  of  her 
sermons,  taken  do^vn  by  my  dear  mother ;  and  they 
are  such  lonoj  ramblinor  discoui'ses,  that  it  would  be  a 

CO  ■ 

wonder  if  any  child  attended  to  them. 

The  way  I  tried  to  get  over  the  time  generally,  was 
saying  oyer  in  my  mind  all  my  hymns,  yerses,  and 
songs;  I  had  a  good  large  stock  of  all  these  in  my 
memory.  Then  I  would  reckon  first  the  women,  and 
then  the  men ;  then  the  men  who  wore  broad  brims, 
and  then  those  who  wore  chm'n  hats ;  then  the  plain 
women  who  had  their  bonnets  plaited,  and  then  the 
gay  young  Friends  who  had  gathers  and  frills  behind. 
This  was,  no  doubt,  all  yery  silly  and  yery  childish, 
but  I  was  yery  young  then.  When  I  grew  older,  I 
had  other  kinds  of  ideas,  more  sensible  and  more 
amusing,  but  quite  as  far  off  from  religion,  or  eyen 
the  most  distant  approach  to  worship. 

We  always  di'oye  to  Meetino^  in  the  carriage,  and 
I  used  to  feel  yery  well  satisfied  at  stepping  in  be- 
fore so  many  watchers,  to  the  best  appointed  of  all  the 
equipages  that  waited  at  the  gate.  The  men  leading 
the  Meeting  first,  would  cluster  round  the  hall  and 
gate  to  wait  for  the  women,  or  it  might  be  to  gaze  at 
them.  Eyery  Friend  who  owned  a  car  or  carriage, 
was  sure  to  haye  it  there  on  first  days,  eyen  those  who 
liyed  in  the  next  street,  would  driye  to  Meeting.  My 
dear  father  highly  disapproyed  of  this  custom ;  he  al- 
ways walked,  whether  wet  or  fine ;  and  I  haye  often 
heard  him  say,  he  neyer  took  cold  from  sitting  in 
Meeting  in  damp  clothes  or  wet  shoes. 


24 


VISIT  TO  CORK. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Visit  to  Cork — Immigration  of  souls  from  Purgatory — Bible  reading 
— Old  Dolly — Chapel  of  the  Presentation  Convent — Church — Qua- 
ker servant — Novels — Pious  roguery — Teachers. 

My  first  excursion  from  home,  was  a  visit  to  Cork, 
with  my  mother,  and  an  uncle,  who  lived  with  us. 
We  travelled  with  our  own  carriage  and  horses,  and 
were  four  days  on  the  road.  I  enjoyed  greatly  the 
journey;  the  inns  seemed  to  me  such  wonderful 
places ;  and  the  strange  beds,  and  the  people  talking 
Irish;  and  some  of  them  looked  so  wretched,  and 
some  so  savage,  and  my  uncle  told  me  delightful  sto- 
ries ;  and  one  about  robbers,  just  as  we  were  driving 
over  Watergrass  Hill,  which  was  then  notorious  for 
its  lawless  and  brutal  inhabitants. 

We  were  going  to  visit  a  lady,  not  a  Friend,  an  old 
acquaintance  of  my  mother's ;  and  the  idea  of  going 
among  ''the  people  of  the  world,"  was  a  delightful 
idea  to  me,  although  I  more  than  half  thought  I  was 
going  into  a  den  of  wickedness ;  for  a  firm  conviction 
had  been  very  early  implanted  in  my  mind,  that  what- 
V  ever  was  not  quakerish,  was  wicked.  How  I  had  im- 
bibed the  notion  I  cannot  tell,  certainly,  it  was  not 
from  my  mother.    She  was  no  bigot,  and  it  was  only 


VISIT  TO  CORK. 


25 


to  please  my  father,  that  she  either  wore  the  dress  of 
the  Society  herself,  or  put  it  on  her  daughters. 

Cork  was  my  mother's  native-place ;  and  as  most 
of  her  relations  lived  there,  we  had  many  visitors. 
AVe  went  to  several  large  dinner  parties ;  our  convey- 
ance was  a  sedan  chair.  I  had  several  nice  dresses, 
and  was  taken  much  notice  of;  and  as  my  dear  mother 
was  in  the  hahit  every  night  of  requu'ing  me  to  give 
her  a  kind  of  resimie  of  all  that  passed  in  the  day,  be- 
fore I  repeated  the  Lord's  prayer  on  my  knees,  as 
usual,  it  all  made  a  great  impression  on  my  memory. 

It  is  a  most  advantageous  habit  to  acquire,  that  of 
rehearsing  to  one's-self,  nightly,  the  events  of  the  day. 
Though  many,  or  most  of  them,  may  appear  too  tri- 
fling to  be  worth  impressing  so  firmly  on  the  mind ; 
yet,  as  every  trifle,  as  well  as  every  passing  word,  will 
undoubtedly  be  revived  in  our  memory  at  the  day  of 
judgment,  it  is  well  to  ponder  over  them  beforehand. 
We  have  a  sui-e  promise,  that  all  things  shall  work 
together  for  good  to  those  who  love  Grod.  I  am  sure, 
there  is  not  one  of  those  most  trifling  circumstances 
which  I  am  now  recording,  that  has  not  exercised  a 
great  influence  over  me,  and  that  has  not  eventually 
conduced  very  greatly  to  my  happiness. 

We  were  in  Cork  on  All  Souls'  Day ;  and  my  mo- 
ther, accompanied  by  some  of  her  friends,  went  in  the 
evening  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Cathedral,  having 
heard  that  there  would  be  there  a  cui'ious  exhibition 
of  the  efficacy  of  prayers  for  the  dead.  She  told  me 
that  on  going  in,  the  Chapel  was  dazzlingly  light. 
3 


26       IMMIGRATION  OF  SOULS  FROM  PURGATORY. 


Wax  candles  three  feet  high,  blazed  upon  the  altar; 
and  every  one  of  the  numerous  priests  in  attendance 
carried  in  his  hand  a  lighted  taper.  One  of  them  gave  an 
oration,  or  sermon,  on  the  inestimable  value  of  masses 
for  the  souls  in  purgatory ;  and  assured  his  hearers, 
that  that  very  evening,  they  should  behold  the  souls 
of  their  own  dead  ancestors ;  who,  having  spent  years 
in  torment,  were  now,  thanks  to  the  masses  offered  up 
in  that  Chapel,  emancipated  from  their  misery,  and 
going  to  enter  into  the  regions  of  glory.  When  he 
ceased  speaking,  the  prayers  for  the  dead  were  chant- 
ed. The  lights  gradually  went  out,  until  the  whole 
chapel  and  its  vast  congregation  were  in  total  dark- 
ness ;  then,  a  sickly  glare  was  visible  around  the  altar ; 
and  in  that  dim  light,  was  distinctly  seen  a  number  of 
small,  bright-red,  queer  looking  objects,  passing  over 
it.  One  of  the  priests,  as  if  in  an  ecstasy,  then  gave 
thanks  for  the  answer  to  his  prayers;  and  called  on 
the  people  to  be  no  longer  faithless,  but  believing, 
as  they  now  saw  with  their  own  eyes,  that  souls  were 
indeed  released  from  purgatory  by  the  prayers  of  the 
Church. 

This  curious  exhibition  interested  me  greatly ;  and 
we  were  all  guessing  and  puzzling  ourselves  to  under- 
stand it,  but  in  vain.  However,  before  leaving  Cork, 
my  mother  went  to  pay  a  visit  to  her  old  nurse,  and 
took  me  with  her.  The  old  woman  was  delighted  to 
see  her  foster  child;  and  called  her  as  of  old,  "my 
own  dear  Miss  Mary."  They  chatted  together  for  a 
long  time,  giving  each  other  intelligence  of  their  dif- 


IMMIGHATION  OF  SOULS  FROM  PURGATORY.  27 

ferent  families.  At  last  my  mother  asked  for  James, 
her  own  foster  brother.  Nurse  said,  he  was  well,  and 
had  now  got  a  fine  situation.  He  was  clerk  to  the 
priest.  Whilst  speaking  of  him,  James  came  in.  A 
nice  looking  man,  with  an  eye  beaming  with  fun  and 
good  humour.  He  was  most  cordial  in  his  welcome ; 
and  my  mother,  with  her  usual  tact,  set  him  at  his 
ease.  In  a  few  moments  he  joined  in  the  conversa- 
tion, but  I  forget  all  they  said,  except  one  part,  that 
no  one  could  ever  forget  that  heard  it.  My  mother  told 
them  of  her  visit  to  the  chapel,  and  of  the  queer  things 
she  had  seen  crawling  over  the  altar;  and  she  asked 
James  what  they  were?  "The  souls,  to  be  sure, 
ma'am,"  said  James.  But  my  mother  laughed,  and 
said,  surely  he  knew  she  was  only  a  heretic ;  and  he 
might  gratify  her,  by  telling  what  they  really  were. 
"Indeed  then,"  said  James,  "when  you  were  a  child, 
like  myself,  I  never  could  refuse  you  any  thing ;  and 
I  am  sure  I  wont  begin  to  deny  you  now ;  and  besides, 
as  you  say,  you  are  a  heretic ;  and  I  wish  I  had  half 
as  good  a  chance  of  heaven,  for  all  that,  as  you  have ; 
but  at  any  rate,  there  is  no  chance  of  the  priest  ever 
knowing  that  I  told  you;  so  you  may  as  well  hear  it. 
It  was  I,  myself,  that  got  them  for  him ;  I  got  all  the 
crabs  I  could  lay  my  hands  on,  for  love  or  money ; 
and  Father  Kelly  and  I  put  the  little  red  cloth  jackets 
on  them ;  and  we  had  a  thread  fastened  to  every  one 
of  them ;  if  they  did  not  chose  to  walk  right,  to  make 
them.  And,  you  know,  it  was  so  dark,  you  could  not 
see  much  about  it;  and  now,  ma'am  dear,  was  in  not 


28 


BIBLE  READING. 


a  capital  clever  delusion  for  the  poor  ignorant  crea- 
tures that  believe  every  thing?" 

Soon  after  our  return  home,  we  received  a  visit 
from  two  men  Friends,  who  had  been  appointed  by 
the  Monthly  Meeting,  in  accordance  with  directions 
from  the  Dublin  Yeurly  Meeting,  to  go  about  to  each 
family,  and  to  admonish  them,  that  the  Yearly  Meet- 
ing deemed  it  advisable  they  should  read  the  Holy 
Scriptures  daily  aloud  in  their  families.  The  Friends 
were  received  most  respectfully ;  they  performed  their 
task  very  seriously,  and  were  then  regaled  with  cake, 
fruit,  and  wine.  We  had  been  in  the  habit  of  read- 
ing the  Bible  after  breakfast  every  morning,  as  long 
as  ever  I  could  remember ;  but  previous  to  this  visita- 
tion, I  believe  it  was  not  the  habit  of  Friends  gene- 
rally to  do  so. 

I  was  very  fond  of  reading;  Bibles  were  not  then 
as  easily  to  be  had  as  they  are  now.  I  greatly  de- 
sired to  have  one  of  my  own ;  but  it  was  many  years 
before  I  accomplished  my  wish.  At  last,  however,  I 
succeeded,  and  I  still  possess  the  remains  of  the  pre- 
cious treasure,  for  which  I  paid  eleven  shillings;  I 
could  now  purchase  as  good  for  two. 

In  addition  to  my  father's  daily  readings,  and  to 
his  repeated  verbal  instruction,  I  had  another  oppor- 
tunity of  acquiring  spiritual  knowledge.  Our  old 
housekeeper,  Dolly,  had  been  married  to  a  Roman 
Catholic,  and  by  him,  forced  to  unite  herself  to  his 
Church.  He  was  captain  of  a  band  in  the  rebellion 
of  1798;  and  whilst  in  the  thick  of  the  battle  which 


OLD  DOLLY. 


29 


was  fought  on  the  bridge  of  Ross,  was,  with  many 
other  rebels,  thrown  over  the  bridge,  and  perished  in 
the  waters.  He  had  left  a  will ;  and  in  it  directed  his 
widow  to  pay  two  shillings  and  six-pence  monthly  to 
the  priest  for  masses  for  his  soul.  This  Dolly  regu- 
larly paid.  We  found  after  her  death  a  pile  of  re- 
ceipts amounting  to  over  =£50.  Out  of  what  she 
deemed  respect  to  his  memory,  she  continued  to  go  to 
Chapel  regularly ;  but  she  was  too  much  enlightened 
to  yield  herself  entirely  to  the  teaching  of  the  priest, 
and  read  her  Bible  indefatigably.  About  the  time  I 
now  allude  to,  her  sight  was  very  defective ;  and  know- 
ing how  fond  I  was  of  reading,  she  proposed  to  me  to 
read  for  her;  and  as  doing  so,  might  involve  some 
personal  sacrifice,  she  promised  to  give  me  a  fresh  egg 
for  my  breakfast  every  morning.  I  greatly  disliked 
my  usual  bread  and  milk  fare,  and  she  knew  I  did  so. 
I  accepted  the  terms,  and  night  after  night,  when  my 
mother  imagined  me  to  be  in  bed,  I  was  in  Dolly's 
own  little  parlour,  reading  the  Bible,  the  Douay  ver- 
sion, whilst  she  darned  her  black  stockings.  I  used 
to  wonder  they  were  never  mended;  for  month  after 
month,  it  was  the  same  pair  she  worked  away  at;  but 
at  last  I  found  out  it  was  only  doll  idle  stitch  she  did, 
for  the  poor  woman  could  not  see  to  do  better;  and 
she  fancied  that  I  would  read  more  willingly,  if  she 
were  employed. 

When  I  was  about  ten  years  old,  I  had  a  great  de- 
sire to  go  see  the  celebration  of  mass  at  a  Chapel ; 
and  as  I  well  knew  there  would  be  no  use  in  asking 
3* 


30 


CHAPEL  OF  THE  PRESENTATION  CONVENT. 


leave  to  go,  and  unwilling  to  disobey,  I  coaxed  our 
maid,  Jenny  Freeman,  to  take  me  with  her,  early  one 
Good  Friday  morning,  before  the  family  were  up,  or 
aware  of  our  departure. 

We  went  to  the  Chapel  attached  to  the  Presenta- 
tion Convent.  I  was  indeed  delighted,  the  altar  was 
so  beautifully  ornamented ;  beside  it  was  a  wax  doll, 
exquisitely  dressed,  to  represent  the  Virgin  Mary; — 
there  was  a  real  cradle,  and  a  little  wax  doll  in  it, 
with  the  prettiest  lace  cap  on  its  little  head; — the 
quilt  was  white  satin,  embroidered  with  gold,  to  repre- 
sent a  lamb  with  a  cross,  as  if  held  in  its  fore  feet ; 
and  the  flowers  which  were  strewn  so  profusely  around. 
I  never  before  saw  such  elegant  artificial  flowers ;  and 
they  were  all  highly  perfumed.  I  pressed  as  close  as 
possible  to  get  a  good  view,  and  quite  forgot  to  pay 
attention  to  all  that  was  going  on,  until  I  was  recalled 
to  it,  by  feeling  a  great  pull  to  my  frock;  I  then 
looked  round,  and  saw  that  all  the  people  were  kneel- 
ing; and  the  old  woman  who  had  pulled  my  dress 
whispered  very  loudly — "Go  down  on  your  knees, 
you  heretic."  I  looked  down,  rather  bewildered,  and 
seeing  the  floor  was  very  dirty,  I  said — "Oh!  no,  it 
would  soil  my  frock,  and  mamma  would  be  angry  with 
me  for  it."  An  old  soldier  was  near;  I  believe  he 
knew  who  I  was ;  he  grinned,  and  made  a  face  at  the 
woman,  and  said — "Whist  you;  'tis  too  dirty  for  you. 
Miss ;  so  go  over  to  the  wall  there,  and  may  be  his 
reverence  wont  pretend  to  see  you."  It  was  a  very 
pretty  show  altogether;  there  were  about  a  dozen 


CHURCH — NOVELS. 


priests,  and  they  went  in  and  out,  always  returning 
in  a  different  dress ;  and  two  pretty  little  boys  dressed 
in  white,  tossed  the  silver  censers  of  incense  about; 
and  the  nuns  peeped  out  now  and  then  from  behind 
their  screen.  I  thought  it  the  prettiest  piece  of  raree 
show  I  had  ever  seen,  and  well  worth  the  reprimand 
I  expected  to  receive  on  returning  home.  However, 
it  was  poor  Jenny  got  all  the  blame;  and  I  was  so 
emboldened  by  my  escape,  that  I  resolved  to  watch 
for  an  opportunity  to  go  see  the  Protestant  Cathedral 
also.  It  was  a  long  time  before  I  attained  my  wish; 
and  when  I  did,  it  was  a  great  disappointment  to  me ; 
for  I  had  fancied  there  would  be  pretty  things  to  see ; 
and  instead  of  that,  it  was  only  prayers  that  I  could 
understand,  and  a  sermon  as  long  as  one  of  those  of 
our  own  "Women  Friends ;  besides,  reading  the  Bible 
— which  any  one  could  do. 

My  father  had  a  tolerably  large  and  well  selected 
library;  there  were  several  Spanish  and  Portuguese 
novels,  but  only  two  English  in  the  whole  collection. 
These  two.  Sir  Charles  Grandison,  and  the  Modern 
Philosopher,  he  had  purchased  at  an  auction,  and  had 
never  read  them  himself.  I  read  them  over  and  over 
again;  partly  because  I  liked  them,  and  partly  be- 
cause I  so  often  heard  Friends  preaching  against  read- 
ing novels ;  who,  whilst  they  acknowledged  generally 
having  themselves  been  very  fond  of  so  doing,  warned 
us  of  the  danger,  because  they  were  so  very  fascinat- 
ing. Therefore  I  craved  after  them,  and  in  a  way  I 
little  expected,  my  desire  was  gratified  to  its  full  ex- 
tent. 


QUAKER  SERVANT — NOVELS. 

Some  of  our  overseers  bethought  them,  that  in  a 
large  family  like  ours,  it  would  be  well  to  have  Friend- 
servants.  They  visited  my  mother  on  the  subject; 
and  as  such  visits  are  made  professedly  as  being  the 
result  of  a-  kind  of  inspiration,  or  as  being  the  teach- 
ing of  "best  wisdom;"  and  are  always  commenced  by 
sitting  down  in  deep  silence,  with  the  visitee,  in  an 
awful  solemn  way,  they  were  of  course  received  with 
the  greatest  respect;  and  although,  when  these  over- 
seers had  relieved  their  minds,  as  they  said,  of  this 
burden  laid  upon  them,  and  gone  away,  my  mother 
candidly  expressed  her  opinion,  that  they  were  a  pair 
of  busy  bodies,  meddling  with  what  did  not  belong  to 
them ;  yet  she  submitted,  and  received  into  the  family 
an  elderly  Quaker,  as  head  nurse-maid,  Katey  Rutter. 
She  was  fat,  and  fair,  and  very  well  looking.  Her 
face  was  radiant  with  good  humour  and  fun ;  her  dress 
was  orthodox;  but  she  wore  no  stays,  and  was  rather 
untidy.  Her  husband,  a  plain  country  Quaker,  had 
turned  out  a  vile  scamp,  and  deserted  her,  leaving 
Katey  and  three  children  to  be  provided  for  by  the 
Meeting  to  which  they  belonged.  The  children  were 
placed  at  the  provincial  school,  and  Katey  quartered 
on  us.  She  proved  an  excellent  servant,  and  most 
faithfully  she  performed  her  duty  during  the  ten  years 
she  remained.  But  except  in  her  dress,  and  her  plain 
language,  Katey  was  but  little  of  a  Quaker;  and 
among  others  of  her  unquakerly  propensities,  was  an 
ardent  love  of  novel  reading.  It  was  by  chance  I 
discovered  this ;  and  when  I  did,  I  bargained  with  her, 


ROGUERY. 


33 


that  I  would  not  tell  on  her,  provided  she  let  me  read 
them.  She  had  an  acquaintance  in  town,  who  kept  a 
circulating  library,  and  we  had  the  full  benefit  of  it, 
and  all  for  nothing,  but  a  basket  of  apples  now  and 
then,  and  a  nosegay,  which  was  never  refused  when 
Katey  asked  leave  to  have  them,  for  her  friend. 

Katey's  children  being  at  the  provincial  school, 
led  us  often  to  visit  it.  They,  as  well  as  others  of 
the  children,  were  usually,  about  four  at  a  time,  invited 
to  dine  with  us  every  first  day.  I  did  not  then  care 
anything  about  the  system  of  education  pursued  there ; 
but  I  remember  being  rather  surprised,  when  Katey's 
daughter,  after  being  seven  years  under  what  was 
called  careful  instruction,  asked  me  one  day  to  find 
out  the  story  of  Telemachus  in  the  Bible  for  her. 

There  was  also  just  then,  a  young  man,  who  had 
been  under  the  same  careful  teaching  for  seven  years, 
the  full  time  children  are  kept  at  that  school,  whose 
conduct  had  annoyed  us  exceedingly.  He  had  been 
taken  into  the  office  of  a  most  respectable  merchant 
in  Limerick ;  and  on  the  strength  of  the  good  princi- 
ples supposed  to  have  been  planted  at  the  provincial 
school,  he  was  placed  in  a  situation  of  trust.  He  was 
no  relative  or  connection  of  ours  ;  but  being  a  quiet, 
gentle  lad,  and  but  little  noticed  by  others,  my  father 
had  often  taken  him  out  of  the  ranks,  as  one  of  our 
first  day  dinner  boys.  He  appreciated  the  kindly 
feeling,  and  turned  it  to  value  for  himself. 

At  the  time  of  our  Quarterly  Meeting,  he  told  his 
employer  that  he  felt  a  "  drawing  "  to  attend  it ;  and 


84 


ROGUERY. 


asked  permission,  whicli  was  readilj  granted.  He 
then  wrote  to  my  father,  very  humbly  asking,  would 
his  ever  kind  and  valued  friend  accommodate  him  with 
a  bed,  whilst  the  Meeting  lasted,  about  three  days. 
His  request  was  thought  presumptuous,  but  it  was  ac- 
ceded to ;  and  he  arrived  duly,  as  sanctified,  and  de- 
mure a  looking  youth,  as  ever  wore  knee  breeches, 
standing  collar,  and  broad  brim.  He  attended  both 
the  first  day  Meetings ;  and  looked  so  pious,  that  his 
former  acquaintances  concluded  he  was  enduring 
"those  turnings  and  over-turnings,  and  sif tings,"  out 
of  which,  we  are  told,  "  the  standard  bearers  of  the 
Society  come  forth,  purified  for  service."  The  next 
morning  he  received  a  letter,  on  reading  which,  he 
sighed,  and  told  us,  that  he  was  obliged  to  leave  im- 
mediately, that  his  master  desired  him  to  return  by 
the  night's  coach.  Off  he  went,  and  we  were  all  glad, 
for  nobody  liked  him ;  though  nobody  could  tell  why. 
It  was  just  a  week  after,  when  his  master  wrote  to  my 
father,  to  request  we  would  not  detain  him  any  longer. 
Letters  were  exchanged ;  and  then  it  came  out,  that 
this  pious  youth  had  levanted  with  .£500 — joined 
another  dissolute  young  man,  and  sailed  for  South 
America,  where  he  enrolled  himself  in  a  Portuguese 
regiment,  and  was  killed  in  a  drunken  brawl. 

As  my  mother  was  very  anxious  that  we  should  be 
well  educated,  it  was  resolved  in  a  family  council,  that 
we  should  have  an  English  governess.  Numerous 
applications  were  made  for  the  situation,  and  one 
highly  recommended  was  selected,  at  a  salary  of  <£100 


TEACHERS. 


35 


per  annum — Hannah  Watthamstow.  She  was  a  na- 
tive of  Leeds,  and  had  been  educated  at  Ackworth 
School.  She  was  a  very  nice  lady-like  Friend,  about 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  fully  competent  to  instruct 
us  in  the  English  language.  As  a  good  grammarian, 
a  pleasing  reader,  and  a  beautiful  writer,  I  have 
never  met  any  one  who  excelled  her.  But  we  had 
commenced  Latin  and  French,  and  it  was  quite  a  dis- 
appointment to  find  her  totally  ignorant  of  these 
branches,  as  well  as  of  drawing.  Indeed  she  thought 
it  strange,  that  in  a  Friend's  family  such  acquire- 
ments should  be  desired.  So  we  had  masters  for 
these ;  a  Friend  for  Latin — a  churchman  for  drawing 
— and  for  French,  Monsieur  Tournay,  the  very  model 
of  a  Frenchman ;  so  small,  so  dapper,  so  polite,  so 
exquisite  in  his  finical  proprieties,  and  withal  so  learn- 
ed, that  France  his  country,  and  Frenchmen  his 
people,  are  ever  since,  for  his  sake,  enveloped  in  an 
atmosphere  of  agreeability. 


36 


MONTHLY  MEETING. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Monthly  Meeting — Contrast  in  character — Story  of  a  robber — Execu- 
tions— Archbishop  of  Tuam — Girl's  school — Value  of  tears — Pious 
pockets — Preachings — Robbery — Visit  to  an  elder — Novels — Re- 
turn home. 

I  NOW  began  to  attend  the  Monthly  Meetings  ;  and 
as  I  find  among  mj  papers',  a  relation  of  one  of  them, 
which  I  well  remember,  my  governess  giving  me  a 
good  scolding  for  daring  to  write  down,  I  will  copy 
it  here  nearly  verbatim. 

Seventy  women  Friends,  without  counting  the  chil- 
dren, met  in  the  Women's  Monthly  Meeting-Room, 
and  took  their  seats  in  silence,  showing,  however,  oc- 
casional acts  of  politeness  to  the  elders,  arranging 
comfortable  cushions,  and  footstools.  The  silence 
continued  unbroken  for  about  ten  minutes,  when  a 
minister  arose,  stood  still  for  a  couple  of  minutes,  and 
then  said — "  Silence  had  been  the  covering  of  her 
mind,  that  she  had  desired  to  remain  in  silence ;  but 
felt  that  she  could  not  have  peace,  and  keep  her 
peace  ;  that  she  felt  the  language  was  going  forth — 
Come  out,  come  out,  come  out  of  her  my  people.  Oh  ! 
that  there  might  be  a  coming  out ;  then  peace  would 
flow  as  a  river,  and  righteousness  as  the  waves  of  the 
sea."  She  resumed  her  seat,  and  a  silence  for  about 
five  minutes  ensued.    Then  the  clerk,  a  plain  middle 


MONTHLY  MEETING.  B7 

aged  Friend — (our  clerks  and  assistant  clerks,  were 
generally  either  widows  or  unmarried  women) — rose 
up,  and  read  from  a  large,  heavy  manuscript  volume, 
the  proceedings  of  the  last  Monthly  Meeting  ;  the  ap- 
pointments which  had  then  been  made,  repeating  the 
names,  and  calling  for  replies  from  those  so  appointed. 
She  sat  down,  and  after  a  short  pause,  up  rose  a  dear 
sober-looking  Friend,  who  said — she,  and  the  other 
Friend  named  with  her,  (appointments  are  always 
made  in  couples,)  had  performed  the  service  to  which 
they  had  been  nominated,  and  had  found  peace  in  so 
doing.  The  duty  was  to  inform  a  young  Friend,  lately 
come  to  live  in  the  city,  of  the  receipt  and  acceptance 
of  her  certificate.  A  certificate  of  membership,  and 
good  conduct,  and  freedom  from  marriage  engage- 
ment, had  been  received  at  the  last  meeting  ;  as  usual, 
when  one  Friend  removes  from  the  compass  of  one 
Meeting  to  reside  within  the  compass  of  another. 
Then  the  assistant  clerk  rose,  and  read  out  of  the 
Printed  Book  of  Minutes  the  ten  queries.  The  first, 
on  attendance  of  Meetings,  called  forth  a  defective 
answer  from  the  trembling  overseer,  to  Avhom  the 
duty  appertained  of  replying ;  and  as  she  had  a  very 
bad  memory,  and  no  one  is  allowed  to  give  a  written 
reply,  she  made  many  attempts  to  utter  the  few  words 
required,  before  she  succeeded.  Then  another  pause 
of  three  minutes,  and  the  second  query,  and  so  on  all 
through  the  ten. 

There  are  always  some  exceptions  made  in  the  an- 
swer to  the  query,  as  to  Friends  maintaining  plain- 
4 


38 


MONTHLY  MEETING. 


ness  of  speech,  behaviour  and  apparel.    It  appears 
to  be  the  most  important  of  all  the  dogmas  of  our 
Society  ;  at  least  there  is  always  more  preaching  about 
it,  and  a  stricter  scrutiny  into  the  answer  given,  than 
on  any  other  point.    On  the  present  occasion,  our 
minister,  who  had  opened  the  Meeting,  spoke  on  the 
subject  in  the  most  awfully  solemn  voice,  (clutch- 
ing a  firm  hold  of  the  back  of  the  seat  near  her)  much 
as  follows  : — If  we  were  more  careful  to  attend  to 
the  litle  things — to  give  up  the  little  things — to  make 
the  little  sacrifices,  oh !  how  different  should  we  be  ! 
Oh,  my  dear  friends  ! — my  sisters  !  I  did  not  wish  to 
speak  amongst  you  this  day ;  but  I  feel  that  I  am 
called  on.    Oh !  dear  friends,  let  us  be  faithful  to 
those  precious  testimonies,  which  are  given  us  to  bear ; 
let  us  be  faithful.    Now  is  the  time  ;  now  is  the  ac- 
ceptable time  ;  the  Lord's  controversy  is  against  those 
vanities  and  corruptions,  with  w^hich  so  many  amongst 
us  are  led  away.    Those  Babylonish  garments  !    Ah  ! 
my  dear  young  Friends !  you  will  not  find  a  better 
way !    Come  now  I  entreat  you  in  much  love.    I  en- 
treat you  to  cast  away  those  outward  adornings — those 
frills — those  plaited  frills — they  are  a  snare  unto  you. 
Now,  now  is  the  time ;  cast  those  vanities  hence,  and 
ye  shall  find  peace  and  joy.    Yea,  ye  shall  be  as 
standard-bearers,  raised  up  in  the  midst  of  a  faithless 
and  perverse  generation,  to  uphold  those  precious  tes- 
timonies, which  our  worthy  predecessors  were  in  best 
wisdom  enabled  to  give  forth." 

This  solemn  address  caused  a  feeling  of  deep  awe, 


MONTHLY  MEETING. 


39 


and  a  prolonged  silence,  which  was  broken  by  a 
younger  Friend.  It  was  her  first  attempt,  I  believe, 
at  preaching.  (She  has  since  joined  the  white  Friends.) 
She  was  of  a  very  plain  countenance,  and  studiously 
plain  in  her  dress.  She  rose  slowly,  grasped  the  back 
of  the  seat  before  her,  and  stood  trembling,  and  greatly 
agitated.  At  last,  in  very  broken  accents  she  said — 
a  concern  had  long  rested  on  her  mind,  that  Friends 
should  "walk  close ;"  that  she  was  jealous  for  her  dear 
sisters ;  that  she  wished  they  could  see  it  right  to  wear 
plaits  in  their  bonnets,  instead  of  gathers ;  that  she 
hoped  no  one  would  think  this  a  trifle  ;  it  was  by  trifles 
people  fell :  and  that  it  was  under  a  feeling  of  great 
w^eight  she  was  made  willing  to  say  those  few  words. 

Then  we  had  another  long  silence,  during  which 
glances  were  exchanged,  which  told  plainly  enough 
that  some  of  the  assembly  did  not  quite  relish  this  last 
address.  However,  nothing  was  said,  and  the  clerk 
again  went  on  with  the  queries.  "  Is  there  amongst 
you  any  growth  in  the  truth  ?"  The  overseer  made  an- 
swer— "  We  believe  there  is  amongst  us  a  growth  in  the 
truth."  She  sat  down,  and  soon  a  minister  rose  and 
said — she  did  fear  it  would  hardly  be  right  to  use  so 
strong  a  wwd  as  "believe;"  she  thought  the  word 
"trust"  would  be  more  suitable.  An  elder  shortly 
after  remarked,  that  she  would  be  glad  Friends  could 
allow^  the  word  "  believe  "  to  remain ;  she  did  not  think 
it  was  too  strong.  Another  Friend,  after  two  minutes' 
pause,  thought  "  trust  "  would  be  preferable,  on  which 
the  Friend  who  first  suggested  the  alteration,  rose 


40 


MONTHLY  MEETING. 


again,  and  said — she  was  quite  willing  Friends  should 
use  the  word  "believe,"  if  they  thought  it  best.  She 
then  resumed  her  seat  with  rather  an  offended  dignity 
air.  A  very  long  silence  now  came  on,  and  then  the 
clerk  got  up  and  said,  she  would  be  glad  Friends  would 
say,  which  word  was  to  be  inserted  in  the  answer  ? 
She  got  no  reply  for  a  long  time  ;  at  length  a  very 
intelligent  nice  looking  Friend,  who  sat  far  away  from 
the  table,  rose,  and  in  a  clear  steady  voice,  said — "  I 
would  suggest  the  word  'hope,'  perhaps  it  would  meet 
the  case."  The  moment  she  sat  down — (for  not  being 
one  of  those  accustomed  to  speak  in  Meetings,  and 
having,  morever,  an  mihemmed  shawl  on,  with  a  collar 
of  the  most  delicate  fabric,  no  regard  is  ever  paid  to 
what  such  a  one  may  say) — the  first  objector  stood  up, 
and  ordered  the  clerk  somewhat  peremptorily  to  insert 
the  very  word  at  which  she  herself  had  first  cavilled. 
And  then  after  sitting  down,  whilst  the  clerk  took  up 
the  pen  to  obey  her,  she  again  rose,  and  with  an  extra 
attempt  at  solemnity,  spoke  as  follows : — "  It  is  an 
awful  thing  for  one,  who  is  not  of  the  called,  to  presume 
to  touch  the  ark.  For  so  doing  Uzzah  perished ;  and 
so  let  all  thine  enemies  perish,  oh.  Lord  !  These  are 
solemn  Meetings,  and  my  soul  trembleth  within  me. 
Oh  !  it  is  a  very  solemn  thing  to  speak  in  Meetings  of 
discipline,  to  keep  down  the  willings  and  the  runnings. 
To  be  willing  to  sit  still,  this  is  what  the  Lord  requires 
of  us,  this  controversy  is  against  the  willings  and  the 
runnings.  We  must  come  down — come  down.  It  is 
very  painful  for  me  to  be  called  on  to  speak  in  thi  s 


MOXTHLY  MEETING. 


41 


manner,  but  I  dare  not  withhold ;  and  I  feel  I  am  made 
willing  to  submit  to  the  requirings  of  the  life  within." 

She  continued  for  a  long  time  in  the  same  strain 
and  at  last,  to  the  great  joy  of  every  one,  sat  down. 
"Whenever  such  a  person  as  Betsey,  who  had  suggested 
the  word  hope,  presumes  to  speak  in  Meeting,  though 
all  have  nominally  the  right  equally  to  do  so,  they  are 
invariably  put  down,  snubbed  as  it  were ;  and  gene- 
rally, or  at  least  very  often,  a  sermon  preached,  not 
to,  but  at  them.  A  registry  of  birth  was  then  read ; 
also  an  Epistle  from  one  of  the  American  Meetings ; 
and  a  message  then  sent  to  the  Men's  Meeting,  sitting 
in  another  room,  to  ask,  if  they  had  any  business  to 
communicate  to  Women  Friends.  They  kept  us  wait- 
ing a  weary  while ;  and  then  sent  in  a  paper  of  dis- 
union, testifying  against  a  young  man  who  had  so  far 
neglected  the  shinings  of  the  light  within,  as  to  suffer 
himself  to  be  joined  in  marriage  with  a  person  not  of 
our  society ;  thus  ceasing  to  uphold  our  ancient  and 
valuable  testimony  against  a  hireling  ministry.  After 
reading  over  the  minutes  of  the  whole,  and  a  short 
silence,  the  ministers  shook  hands  with  each  other, 
and  all  rose  to  depart. 

Friends  are  frequently  admonished  not  to  speak  out 
of  doors  of  any  thing  that  passes  in  the  Monthly  Meet- 
ings. Few  of  the  advices  there  given  have  more  wis- 
dom in  them  than  this.  Often  and  often  have  I  heard 
in  them  ad^dces  given,  in  a  kind  of  half  preaching  way, 
which  would  redound  but  little  to  the  common  sense  of 
the  sisterhood.  I  have  heard  women  Friends  advised 
4* 


42 


MONTHLY  MEETING. 


to  burn  all  newspapers  that  came  into  their  houses, 
to  prevent  their  husbands,  sons,  and  brothers  from 
reading  them.  I  could  fill  a  volume,  were  I  to  write 
down  all  the  advices  I  have  heard  given  in  those  Meet- 
ings, about  different  articles  of  dress,  curls,  side- 
combs  ;  every  possible  minutise  has,  from  time  to  time, 
been  expiated  on,  and  censured  ad  nauseum.  And, 
alas  !  these  senseless  ravings  are  given  forth,  as  if  the 
speakers  were  mider  the  influence  of  immediate  in- 
spiration. 

I  attribute  my  mother's  many  unquakerly  habits  to 
the  very  superior  education  she  had  received  at  a 
first-rate  Boarding-school,  near  London.  There  were 
several  young  Friends  at  it  as  well  as  herself,  but  the 
mistress  Avas  an  Episcopalian.  However  it  was,  my 
mother  had  formed  the  opinion,  that  if  a  subject  was 
of  sufiicient  importance  to  be  spoken  of  in  our  meet- 
ings, it  was  surely  worth  attention  and  reflection  out 
of  them.  And  also,  that  if  it  was  not  right  to  speak 
of  such  things  out  of  Meetings,  it  was  much  less  right 
to  speak  of  them  there. 

We  were  early  acustomed  to  discuss  these  things 
among  ourselves,  and  anything  very  flagrant  we  told 
to  our  father ;  but  being  an  elder,  and  in  duty  bound 
to  take  notice  of  them,  he  did  not  like  to  be  told,  lest 
it  should  bring  him  into  collision  with  the  women, 
about  half  a  dozen  of  whom  ruled  the  men  as  well  as 
the  women,  with  an  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  sway. 

There  was  a  little  woman  in  our  Meeting,  whom  no 
one  seemed  to  think  it  worth  while  to  speak  to,  or 


CONTRAST  IN  CHARACTER. 


43 


notice.    She  was  so  much  accustomed  to  be  thrust 
aside,  that  she  was  in  the  habit  of  running  home 
before  the  crowd,  which  always  loiters  in  the  halls 
of  our  Meetings,  to  chat  and  exchange  greetings,  had 
come  out.  My  father  used  to  call  her  the  Honourable 
Betty  Green.    He  said  if  any  one  ever  deserved  that 
title,  she  did.    Her  husband,  a  dissolute,  bad,  old 
Quaker,  died,  and  left  her  in  poverty,  and  deeply  in 
debt,  with  a  family  to  pro^^de  for.    Betty  had  a  soul 
above  dependence;  and  respectfully  declined  to  re- 
ceive assistance  from  the  Meeting.    She  toiled  on  for 
years,  and  at  last  startled  us  all,  by  putting  an  adver- 
tisement in  the  Newspaper,  inviting  all  her  husband's 
creditors  to  furnish  their  accounts  to  her.    She  paid 
them  every  farthing  due,  and  interest,  and  then  re- 
lapsed into  her  old  quiet  way.  And  at  her  death,  left 
her  only  surviving  child  a  handsome  independence. 
My  father  was  her  only  confidant.    He  had  lent  her 
the  fifty  pounds  she  required  for  a  commencement, 
and  had  cheered  her  on  in  her  honom-able  course. 
Hers  was  the  first  funeral  I  attended.    It  was  con- 
ducted all  in  silence,  and  few  tears  were  shed  for  her. 
She  died  as  she  had  lived,  humbly,  solitary,  and  ne- 
glected by  the  Friends.    But  who  will  say,  that  her 
happy  and  glorified  spirit,  does  not  njow  rank  as  high 
as  the  spirit  of  that  self-righteous  woman,  who,  be- 
cause she  was  a  minister,  would  sweep  past  poor 
Betty,  nor  deign  to  look  a  return  to  the  timid  saluta- 
tion I  have  often  seen  given.  That  minister,  was  like 
Betty,  left  a  widow,  and  her  husband  died  in  debt. 


44 


STORY  OF  A  ROBBER. 


But  no  effort  was  made  to  pay  his  creditors.  On  the 
contrary,  by  the  death  of  wealthy  relatives,  riches 
flowed  in  upon  her.  She  lived  in  luxury,  and  died  of 
over-eating.  I  was  at  her  funeral  also.  It  was  very 
large,  and  Friend  after  Friend  preached  at  the  grave, 
or  rather  eulogized  the  departed,  and  spoke  of  her  as 
one  of  the  bright  shining  lights  of  our  Society ;  call- 
ing on  the  young  people  to  follow  in  the  steps  she  had 
trod.  And  all  this  laudation — would  it  have  been 
given  had  she  not  been  rich,  and  gifted  with  effrontery 
to  stand  up,  and  with  her  bonnet  off,  her  head  merely 
covered  with  a  little  black  silk  skull  cap,  speak  for  an 
hour  or  more  at  a  time?    I  trow  not. 

Our  family  was  accustomed  to  spend  a  couple  of 
months  each  summer,  at  the  sea  side.  One  evening 
when  my  father  and  uncle  were  driving  there  to  meet 
us,  they  were  attacked  by  three  robbers.  One  seized 
the  horse,  and  one  at  each  side  of  the  gig,  with  a 
loaded  pistol,  threateningly  held  up,  demanded  their 
money  and  watches.  Of  course  there  was  nothing 
for  it,  but  to  obey.  As  my  father  gave  his,  he  said 
to  the  robber — "If  ever  thou  shouldst  want  a  friend, 
remember  and  send  for  me." 

Tw^o  years  after  this,  a  message  was  sent  to  my 
father,  that  a  man  under  sentence  of  death  in  the 
county  gaol  wished  to  see  him  exceedingly.  He 
obtained  the  necessary  order  for  admission,  and  went 
without  having  any  idea  who  it  could  be.  On  enter- 
ing the  condemned  cell,  he  recognized  the  face  of  the 
person  who  had  robbed  him  two  years  before.  The 


STORY  OF  A  ROBBEE. 


45 


man  looked  at  him,  and  trembled  violently.  "Why," 
said  he,  "did  you  tell  me,  if  I  wanted  a  friend,  to 
remember  and  send  for  you?"  "Really,"  replied  my 
father,  "I  hardly  know  why  I  said  it:  but  if  I  can 
do  anything  for  thee  now,  tell  me,  and  if  right  to  be 
done,  I  will  do  it."  "Sir,"  said  he,  "I  have  never 
had  a  moment's  peace  since  I  robbed  you.  I  knew  I 
would  be  hanged  for  it,  for  no  one  can  injui'e  a  Qua- 
ker, and  not  feel  that  vengeance  will  pui'sue  them. 
Now,  for  stealing  a  horse,  I  am  sentenced  to  death  by 
the  judge.  But,  sir,  it  is  God  has  sentenced  me  for 
robbing  you."  He  then  told  where  the  watch  would 
be  found,  in  a  hole  in  a  wall  about  four  miles  from  the 
city,  indicating  the  spot  with  minute  accui-acy.  It 
was  found  there  a  few  days  afterwards,  and  had  evi- 
dently lain  there  a  long  time. 

My  father  spoke  to  him  kindly;  found  that  he  was 
in  some  degree  educated ;  he  could  read  well,  but  was 
in  the  grossest  ignorance  of  his  duty  either  to  God  or 
man.  He  confessed  freely,  that  he  had  lived  a  most 
wicked  life ;  he  was  the  leader  or  captain  of  a  band  of 
highwaymen;  but  strange  to  say,  his  conscience  had 
never  been  silent.  Its  monitions  had  tormented  him, 
and  a  fearful  expectation  of  meeting  the  due  reward 
of  his  crimes  in  this  world,  he  had  not  been  able  to 
get  rid  of.  He  had  never  committed  mui'der.  Being 
free  from  that  sin  was  his  greatest  and  only  comfort. 
He  seemed  to  think  it  was  almost  a  ^drtue.  My  father 
promised  to  make  intercession  for  his  life ;  but  warned 
him  of  the  improbability  of  his  interference  being  sue- 


46 


STORY  OP  A  ROBBER. 


cessful — the  law,  then,  was  so  severe,  and  the  penalty 
of  death  so  rigidly  executed.  "Sir,"  said  he,  "it  is 
not  that  I  want  of  you.  I  know  I  must  die ;  but  oh ! 
sir,  lam  afraid  to  meet  God.  What  shall  I  do?" 
And  he  wept  abundantly.  My  father  told  him  of  the 
hope  of  the  Gospel,  of  the  free  pardon  given  to  all 
who  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He  listened 
with  intense  avidity,  but  was  quite  incredulous  that 
such  a  glorious  pardon  would  be  given  to  him.  The 
next  day,  my  father  again  visited  him,  and  brought 
him  a  Testament ;  marked  the  most  suitable  passages 
and  desired  him  to  believe  in  them,  for  that  the  pro- 
mises there  offered  to  him,  were  as  true  as  they  were 
simple.  The  poor  fellow  had  been  given  what  they 
called  a  long  day ;  that  was  two  weeks.  During  that 
time,  my  father  had  exerted  himself  in  every  possible 
way  to  get  the  sentence  commuted.  He  had  inter- 
ested the  best,  the  highest,  and  the  noblest  in  the 
city  in  the  case,  but  in  vain.  On  going  to  the  gaol 
on  the  third  day  before  the  execution,  my  father  was 
refused  admission,  and  was  told  that  an  order  had 
been  sent  not  to  allow  him  to  see  the  condemned  man 
again.  That  evening  he  received  a  parcel  from  the 
governor  of  the  gaol,  containing  the  Testament  and  a 
note,  saying,  the  Priest  was  going  to  take  it  away, 
but  the  condemned  man  had  entreated  him  to  return 
it  to  his  only  friend. 

This  circumstance,  and  at  the  same  time,  the  exe- 
cution of  a  poor  sweep,  who,  it  soon  afterwards  tran- 
spired, was  hanged  for  a  crime  of  which  he  was  not 


EXECUTIOX — ARCHBISHOP  TUAM. 


4T 


guilty,  made  a  deep  impression  on  my  father's  mind. 
He  resolved  to  do  what  he  could  towards  having  those 
laws  changed,  which  were  so  cruelly  severe.  After 
much  serious  and  prayerful  thought  on  the  subject, 
he  wrote  (I  was  his  assistant  amanuensis)  to  all  the 
judges,  and  to  most  of  the  influential  men  in  the 
country,  entreating  their  attention  to  the  unchristian 
severity  of  om-  penal  statutes.  He  acted  entirely  as 
an  individual,  the  Society  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
Perhaps,  except  my  mother  and  myself,  no  one  knew 
of  the  efforts  he  made  to  have  the  punishment  of  death 
done  away  with,  for  all  crimes,  but  mui'der.  He  re- 
ceived the  kindest  replies  from  all  parts ;  thanks  for 
bringing  the  subject  under  notice,  and  promises  of 
legislative  interference.  Amongst  them  was  one  from 
the  Archbishop  of  Tuam,  which  cheered  him  greatly, 
and  assui'ed  him  that  the  work  then  commenced,  would 
be  carried  on  strenuously,  until  the  desired  end  was 
achieved.  The  Archbishop  had  been  a  fellow  student 
at  the  University  with  my  father.  Whilst  he  was 
Bishop  Trench,  he  had  renewed  his  acquaintance,  and 
now  again  these  two  pious  men  cemented  a  friendship 
which,  commenced  on  earth,  they  are  now  doubtless 
enjoying  in  the  mansions  of  glory,  prepared  for 
Christ's  redeemed  children. 

Oui'  governess  having  left  us,  in  expectation  of  be- 
ing married  to  a  Friend  in  Yorkshire,  to  whom  she 
was  partly  engaged  when  she  came  to  Ireland,  but 
who  finally  jilted  her,  it  was  resolved  to  send  me  to 
the  School  for  the  Daughters  of  Friends.    I  greatly 


48 


GIKLS'  SCHOOL. 


dreaded  and  disliked  this  plan ;  for  I  liad  heard,  alas  ! 
too  truly,  that  the  Mistress  was  a  very  plain,  strict 
Friend,  a  rigid  disciplinarian,  and  of  a  somewhat 
tartaric  temper. 

The  distance  from  our  own  happy  home  was  only 
twenty-five  miles ;  but  in  those  days  it  was  a  journey 
quite  long  enough  for  one  day.  We  started,  my 
mother  and  myself,  after  an  early  breakfast ;  and, 
having  to  refresh  the  horses  twice  on  the  road,  it  was 
late  in  the  evening  when  we  arrived.  But  the  time 
passed  rapidly ;  my  mother  was  possessed  of  an  un- 
failing fund  of  traditionary  stories  and  anecdotes, 
and  gifted  with  a  happy  method  of  relating  them, 
interspersed  with  her  own  wise,  and  oftentimes  droll 
and  quaint  observations. 

There  were  forty  girls  at  the  school,  only  a  very 
few  older  than  myself.  Two  Mistresses,  Sisters 
Betsey  and  Anne,  an  English  governess,  and  five 
young  women,  half  teachers,  half  pupils.  The  house 
was  large  and  convenient ;  and  opening  on  a  lonely 
road,  was  surrounded  by  a  large  and  well  stocked 
garden  at  the  back,  and  this  was  separated  from  the 
rest  of  the  world  by  a  mill-stream  at  one  side,  and 
the  river  at  the  other.  We  had  always  the  very  best 
plain  fare.  Sister  Anne  presided  over  the  house- 
keeping department.  She  was  a  liberal  soul,  and 
spared  not  those  ingredients  which  constitute  the  es- 
sence of  good  living.  She  was  a  simple-minded,  gen- 
tle, retiring  person ;  afi"ectionately  kind  to  us  all,  and 
on  several  occasions  I  found  her  especially  so  to  me. 


girls'  school. 


49 


We  all  knew  that  the  great  aim  and  object  of  Sister 
Anne's  life,  was  to  walk  humbly  before  her  God,  to 
maintain  the  principles  and  peculiarities  of  her  pro- 
fession, and  to  promote  the  comfort  and  happiness  of 
us  girls ;  and  we  all  loved  her. 

Betsey  was  as  opposite  to  her  gentle  sister  as  night 
from  day.  She  was,  what  is  called,  a  strong-minded 
woman ;  and  strong  in  the  belief  of  her  own  infalli- 
bility, she  certainly  was.  She  had  been  selected  for 
the  post  she  held,  as  being  a  Model  Quakeress — one 
whom  we  young  ones  would  do  well  to  copy  in  all 
things.  She  was  a  personification  of  peculiarities. 
Small,  neat,  and  naturally  well-looking,  but  with  an 
unfeminine  severity  of  countenance.  The  girls  told 
me  they  had  seen  her  smile.  I  never  did.  Her  fea- 
tures, as  well  as  her  mind,  were  too  sternly  disci- 
plined ever  to  relax.  Her  dress  was  neat,  and  costly 
too.  Her  gown,  of  very  dark  brown  tabinet,  was 
made,  as  the  gowns  of  our  aristocratic  Friends  always 
are,  so  very  long,  as  to  require  holding  up  when 
walking  even  across  a  room ;  and  her  petticoat,  of  the 
same  material,  was  just  short  enough  to  show  the  neat, 
fine,  white  cotton  stocking,  and  the  highly  polished 
short  quartered  shoe,  with  its  broad  ribbon  tie.  The 
muslin  of  which  her  caps  and  neck-kerchiefs  were 
made,  was  of  a  fabric  fine  enough  for  Majesty  to 
wear.  The  time  bestowed  on  washing,  ironing,  clear- 
starching, and  tacking  them,  was  amazing  ;  but  they 
were  perfect  structures  of  delicate  folds,  when  com- 
pleted. The  education  given  at  that  school  was  ex- 
5 


50 


girls'  school. 


cellent,  so  far  as  it  went.  The  governess  was  a  first- 
rate  scholar  herself;  and  though  as  plain  a  Friend 
as  either  of  the  sisters,  yet  she  was  cast  in  a  very 
different  mould.  She  was  loveable,  of  a  much  higher 
degree  of  mental  culture  and  refinement  than  the 
others.  I  was  very  fond  of  her.  She  spoke  a  few 
kind  words  to  me  on  my  arrival ;  and  there  is  nothing 
makes  so  indelible  an  impression  on  the  heart  as  kind 
words,  spoken  with  a  kind  look  accompanying  them, 
when  one  is  sad,  and  feels  desolate.  But  besides  this, 
I  had  another  bond  of  union  with  my  governess.  I 
soon  found  out  that,  like  myself,  she  was  no  great 
favourite  with  Sister  Betsey. 

How  strange  a  thing  is  that  intuitive  feeling  of 
liking  and  disliking  a  person  at  first  sight.  I  have 
experienced  it  repeatedly ;  and  years  after,  without 
intermediate  intercourse,  I  have  felt  the  truthfulness 
of  that  mysterious  index. 

My  dress  gave  me  a  world  of  trouble  with  Sister 
Betsey.  The  rule  of  the  school  was,  to  wear  what- 
ever clothes  the  parents  sent,  provided  they  were  not 
unfriendly.  Mine  were  always  thought  to  be  passably 
orthodox  at  home  ;  but  Sister  Betsey  found  out  much 
to  alter.  The  hem  on  my  plain  muslin  collars  was 
too  broad ;  I  had  to  rip,  and  re-work  them  the  breadth 
of  a  straw.  My  shawl  was  bound  with  narrow  rib- 
bon, which  had  to  come  off,  and  a  broad  hem  to  be 
put  on  instead.  I  had  to  take  the  sleeves  out  of  my 
frocks ;  she  cut  them  to  her  own  taste,  and  then  I 
had  to  put  them  in  again.    The  gathers  were  taken 


girls'  school. 


51 


out  of  my  Friends'  bonnet,  and  plaits  put  in.  I  mur- 
mured at  the  weary,  hateful  task ;  spoiling  my  clothes, 
for  no  earthly  good.  But  it  was  no  use ;  I  was  not 
even  allowed  to  study  with  the  other  girls,  till  the 
clothes  were  all  finished  in  the  prescribed  way. 

"Pretty  schooling,  this,"  said  I;  ''I  am  sure  I 
was  not  sent  here  to  learn  mantua-making.  I  will 
write  home,  and  tell  my  mother  the  kind  of  schooling 
I  am  getting." 

"  Silly  child,"  said  a  good-humoured  girl  beside 
me,  "thou  must  learn  Quakerism." 

"But,"  said  I,  "is  it  not  provoking?  I  must  put 
a  broad  hem  on  one  thing,  and  take  it  off  another." 

"Ah!  that  is  only  emblematical,"  said  she. 
"Friends  may  swallow  a  camel,  sometimes,  but  they 
must  always  strain  at  gnats.  However,"  said  she, 
"  don't  grumble  about  it.  'Whenever  any  of  the  girls 
want  to  get  into  favour  with  Sister  Betsey,  they  tell 
her  every  thing  they  hear  us  say.  There  is  Eliza 
Morland  always  prowling  about  now,  listening  to 
every  one ;  take  care  what  thou  sayest  to  her,  or  in 
her  hearing,  for  it  will  all  go  at  once  to  Betsey.  And 
as  to  the  writing  home,  put  that  out  of  thy  head  at 
once ;  for  all  our  letters  are  read  before  they  leave 
the  house.  I  never  received  a  letter  since  I  came 
here,  that  had  not  got  the  seal  broken  open.  But 
what  matter,"  said  the  light-hearted  girl ;  "  in  a  year 
or  two  it  will  be  all  over,  and  then  I'll  go  home,  and 
I'll  get  a  straw  bonnet,  and  I'll  put  red  ribbons  on 
it." 


52 


VALUE  OF  TEARS. 


We  had  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  read  to  ns  every 
morning  after  breakfast,  and  again  at  night  another. 
No  observation  was  made,  or  explanation  given ;  but 
frequently  at  night  Sister  Betsey  would  preach  about 
her  own  devotedness,  her  feelings,  her  desire  to  pro- 
mote our  real  welfare  ;  and  she  would  give  pious  slaps 
at  any  misdemeanour  we  had  been  guilty  of  during 
the  day.  Happy  was  the  girl  who,  softened  by  these 
addresses,  could  show  her  susceptibility  by  tears.  No 
homage  was  so  grateful  to  Sister  Betsey  as  this ;  the 
triumphant  proofs  of  her  eloquence — this  assurance 
that  her  spiritual  travail  was  accomplishing  its  desired 
end.  I  had  no  tears  thus  at  command,  and  conse- 
quently I  never  was  a  favourite. 

There  were  two  of  the  girls  given  to  preaching; 
these  two — both  prime  pets  of  Sister  Betsey — plagued 
me  sadly.  My  hair  was  long.  Oh!  what  concerns 
Eliza  Morland  had,  that  I  should  not  only  have  it 
cropped  off  like  her  own,  but  that,  influenced  by  her 
persuasion,  I  should  ask  permission  to  have  it  done. 
She  said  "it  would  be  an  acceptable  sacrifice."  Then 
my  boots ;  there  was  a  tassel  on  my  boots,  which 
caused  great  mental  concern  to  both  Eliza  and  Anne. 
They  entreated  me  to  cut  off  the  Babylonish  orna- 
ment, and  told  me  "  I  would  have  peace  in  so  doing." 

Another  thing  disturbed  these  righteous  girls,  as 
Sister  Betsey  once  called  them  to  me ;  that  was,  that 
before  getting  into  bed,  I  knelt  to  repeat  the  Lord's 
prayer,  as  my  mother  had  ever  taught  me  to  do. 
There  was  not  one  of  all  the  forty  girls,  but  myself, 


PREACHINGS. 


53 


had  been  so  liabitiiated.  Eliza  and  Anne  remonstrated 
with  me  on  this,  which  they  called  a  Popish  practice ; 
and  because  I  paid  no  regard  to  their  preachings,  they 
then  went  and  told  Sister  Betsey,  and  she  forbid  me 
to  kneel.  She  said  ''it  was  too  solemn  an  act  for  any 
one  but  an  appointed  minister  of  our  Society,  and 
wholly  unbecoming  in  one  so  far  from  righteousness 
as  I  was." 

We  were  regularly  marched  out  to  walk  every  fine 
day.  Two  and  two — a  long  string  of  us  paraded 
through  the  town ;  and  the  same  way  to  Meetings. 
If  the  streets  were  wet,  as  indeed  they  generally  were, 
and  dirty  too,  in  winter,  we  were  all  obliged  to  wear 
pattens.  What  a  clatter  we  made  I  Unaccustomed 
to  the  use  of  them,  I  begged  to  go  without,  but  was 
told,  "  my  request  was  the  fruit  of  a  corrupt  inclina- 
tion;" so  of  course  I  mounted  them  like  the  others, 
and  tottered  off.  The  first  attempt  my  ancle  turned. 
As  soon  as  that  got  well,  I  was  compelled  to  mount 
upon  them  again,  and  again  I  fell ;  and  this  happened 
so  often,  and  so  often  I  limped  into  Meeting,  that  at 
last  I  gained  my  point,  and  the  abominable  pattens 
were  given  to  another. 

The  Meeting  was  not  as  large  as  that  which  I  came 
from.  There  were  but  two  women  ministers,  and  no 
man  at  all.  Occasionally  a  man  sitting  in  the  body 
of  the  meeting  spoke  ;  but  they  used  to  pull  him  down 
when  he  stood  up,  so  that  he  seldom  succeeded  in  un- 
burthening  his  mind.  He  was  a  poor  man,  a  shop- 
keeper, and  his  wife  and  daughter  thought  he  had  as 
5* 


54 


PREACHINGS. 


good  a  right  to  be  heard  as  any  one  else.  One  first 
day  he  attempted  a  sermon ;  and  when  all  the  pulling 
did  not  keep  him  quiet,  they  forced  him  out  of  the 
Meeting.  Whilst  so  doing,  his  wife  rose  up,  and 
shouted  out — "  Quench  not  the  Spirit."  She  was  then 
subjected  to  the  same  summary  eviction  ;  and  then  up 
rose  the  daughter,  and  shrieked  out — "  Despise  not 
prophesyings."  She  had  to  make  her  exit  also  in 
double  quick  time.  These  people  often  broke  the  si- 
lence of  our  Meetings  ;  the  real  ministers  but  rarely. 
They  were  very  indifferent  preachers ;  or  rather,  as 
Friends  say,  their  gifts  in  the  ministry  were  very 
small. 

Some  of  our  girls  could  speak  on  their  fingers ;  w^e 
had  many  a  conversation  of  this  kind,  which  relieved 
the  tedium  of  the  silent  Meetings. 

The  affairs  of  the  Society  here,  were  altogether 
governed  by  the  women ;  some  of  whom  possessed 
great  energy  of  character.  Indeed  I  believe  they 
cared  far  more  for  the  upholding  of  the  discipline,  than 
did  the  men ;  who,  engaged  as  they  were  in  business, 
were  content  quietly  and  honorably  to  plod  on  their 
way ;  and  thus  they  resigned  to  the  women  that  su- 
premacy in  the  Society,  which  they  coveted,  and  the 
others  disregarded.  Out  of  Meeting  I  have  heard 
the  men  say,  it  was  too  bad  that  Sarah  Mills  should 
dictate  to  the  Men's  Monthly  Meeting.  But  she  was 
a  clever  woman,  and  had  them  all  well  in  hand,  and 
kept  them  so  while  she  lived.  Tavo  women  only  ever 
ventured  to  oppose  her  will.    They  v/ere  as  stout- 


ROBBERY. 


55 


hearted  as  herself.  Not  being  so  wealthy,  their  in- 
fluence was  greatly  less ;  but  they  had  many  a  skir- 
mish, and  sometimes  a  little  more  than  that,  in  our 
Women's  Monthly  Meetings.  I  often  thought  I  would 
like  to  pat  Rebecca  "VVallis  on  the  back,  when  she 
stood  up  to  dispute  a  point  with  Sarah  Mills,  who  was 
so  fat,  and  so  supreme  in  her  dictatorial  capacity, 
that  she  would  not  even  pay  the  Meeting  the  usual 
coui'tesy  of  rising  to  address  it,  but  was  accustomed 
to  keep  her  seat,  and  from  it  indulge  in  those  tirades 
she  gloried  in  inflicting  on  the  silent  crowd. 

One  morning  we  were  all  aroused  from  our  slum- 
bers earlier  that  usual,  with  the  astonishing  news  that 
robbers  had  been  in  the  house  durino;  the  nic^ht.  We 
hastened  down  stairs,  and  there  saw  that  the  work  of 
spoliation  had  indeed  been  unsparingly  carried  on. 
Om'  desks  and  work-boxes  had  been  broken  open,  and 
rifled — not  one  silver  thimble  was  left  us.  Our  purses 
were  emptied.  All  our  treasures  were  gone.  Even 
our  silk  umbrellas  ;  the  cotton  ones  were  left.  Cloaks, 
shawls,  silver  spoons,  books — all  were  swept  away. 
The  robbers  had  evidently  spent  a  long  time  in  the 
house.  They  had  eaten  and  drunk  abundantlv  ;  and 
moreover,  after  emptying  the  desks,  they  had  actually 
sat  down  and  written  sentence  after  sentence  on  the 
paper  found  therein,  and  even  had  perpetrated  an 
attempt  at  congratulatory  poetry,  to  the  fair  vestals 
whose  sanctuary  they  were  polluting.  The  leader  of 
the  gang — which  was  afterwards  broken  up,  and  most 
of  them  tr«nnsported,  but  not  before  tbey  had  in  a 


56 


ROBBERY. 


similar  manner  despoiled  more  than  a  dozen  Friends' 
houses — was  a  young  man  who  had  applied  for  mem- 
bership in  the  Society.  He  had  managed  to  get  into 
service  in  a  Friend's  family ;  then  he  went  to  first  day 
Meetings,  mounted  a  broad  brim,  and  made  his  .humble 
application  for  membership  on  the  ground  of  convince- 
ment.  He  was  never  admitted ;  but  he  had  access  to 
many  Friends'  houses,  and  found  out  the  vulnerable 
parts  of  them,  and  the  places  where  the  treasures  were 
kept.  When  apprehended,  he  freely  told  of  all  his 
doings,  and  would  laugh  heartily  at  them.  His  gang 
consisted  of  six  men,  a  boy,  and  one  woman.  One  of 
them  cut  out  the  pane  of  a  window,  then  the  boy 
went  in,  and  opened  it  gently  for  them.  The  woman 
carried  a  candle,  which  they  said,  being  made  of  the 
fat  of  a  dead  man,  shed  a  somniferous  influence  over 
all  in  the  house.  He  said  it  was  his  attachment  to  the 
Society,  which  led  him  to  give  so  decided  a  preference 
to  Friends'  houses.  But  some  people  thought  it  was 
because  he  imagined  they  would  not  prosecute  him  if 
he  were  detected.  He  was  disappointed.  No  man 
is  so  meek  and  gentle  as  a  Quaker,  provided  his 
interest  is  not  molested ;  touch  that,  and  you  touch 
the  apple  of  his  eye.  Unregenerate  human  nature 
is  exactly  the  same  in  all  men.  The  outward  garb 
alters  not  the  inward  man. 

One  evening  a  party  of  us  went  by  invitation  to 
visit  the  house  and  grounds  of  Friend  Draper.  I 
had  long  wished  to  go  there.  The  place  was  kept 
beautifully  neat ;  it  was  well  situated,  commanding 


VISIT  TO  AX  ELDER. 


5T 


fine  views  of  the  surrounding  country.  The  flowers, 
the  grotto,  made  at  an  enormous  cost,  the  walks,  the 
ponds — all  were  in  keeping,  and  all  beautiful.  After 
seeing  them,  we  were  conducted  into  the  house,  and 
there  gratified  with  a  sight  of  an  extensive  collection 
of  shells,  minerals,  and  cm'iosities  of  all  kinds ;  and 
then  shown  into  a  room,  where  a  table  was  laid  out 
with  fruits,  cakes,  creams,  and  flowers.  Friend  Dra- 
per bade  us  ^'take  om-  seats,  and  fire  away" — his 
peculiar  phraseology,  but  it  meant,  pray  regale  your- 
selves. He  was  a  very  eccentric  old  bachelor,  a  very 
plain  Friend,  and  very  wealthy ;  lived  quite  solitary, 
but  in  great  luxury.  As  he  was  old,  and  fanciful,  and 
was  not  known  to  have  any  near  relative,  there  were 
many  people  found  ready  to  conform  themselves  to 
his  will,  in  the  unspoken  hope  of  being  made  heirs  to 
his  possessions.  The  dear  Friend  permitted  their 
attentions  to  him,  and  when  he  died  he  left  all  his 
property  to  his  own  two  illegitimate  children. 

One  of  om-  girls  used  to  make  for  herself,  and  wear, 
most  enormous  pockets.  "  Jane,"  said  I,  "is  it  to  be 
thought  pious,  thou  hast  such  big  pockets?"  She 
laughed.  "  Yes,"  said  she,  "  Sister  Betsey  does  think 
them  more  friendly  than  thy  little  scraps  of  things ; 
but  they  are  very  convenient.  Look !  what  I  have  in 
them  now."  I  looked  and  saw  a  good  sized  book ;  it 
was  Ivanhoe.  "  I  can  always  borrow  a  book  when  I 
go  to  dine  with  my  cousin  on  first  day,"  said  Jane; 
and  if  thou  wilt  write  out  my  French  Exercise  for  me. 


58 


NOVELS — RETURN  HOME. 


I  will  let  thee  read  it."  I  gladly  agreed;  and 
whether  it  was  because  stolen  waters  are  sweet,  or 
because  of  the  exceeding  fascination  of  the  book  itself, 
certainly  no  one  ever  enjoyed  a  book  more  than  I  did 
that,  and  some  more  of  the  same  delightful  author's 
works,  which  I  obtained  in  the  same  manner.  When 
reading  it  in  the  arbour  or  in  the  study,  I  always  took 
care  to  provide  myself  with  either  an  Atlas  or  Sarah 
Grubb's  Journal ;  and  then  if  either  one  of  the  Mis- 
tresses or  one  of  the  spy  girls  came  in  sight,  the 
Novel  was  popped  under,  and  the  Atlas  or  the  Jour- 
nal looked  innocent  or  edifying. 

When  the  time  of  probation  was  ended,  and  the 
happy  hour  came  for  emancipation  from  school  thral- 
dom, and  returm  to  home,  for  any  of  us,  it  was  thought 
a  hardened  thing  to  show  any  signs  of  gladness  Sis- 
ter Betsey  often  told  us  that  our  school  days  were  the 
only  happy  days  we  should  have  in  this  world.  There- 
fore tears  at  being  removed  from  her  fostering  care 
were  becoming ;  and  the  pious  girls  used  to  weep  won- 
derfully. When  my  turn  came,  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been 
inhaling  oxygen  gas.  I  could  no  more  weep,  than  she 
could  smile  at  the  idea  of  losing  a  pupil  who  had  been 
very  well  paid  for.  However,  we  parted,  quite  friend- 
ly ;  she  kissed  me,  and  said,  that  though  I  had  always 
been  obdurate,  she  loved  me  for  my  father's  sake. 
That  I  had  made  such  good  progress  in  my  studies, 
she  trusted  that  she  might  yet  see  me  devoting  my 
abilities  to  the  good  of  our  Society.    That  she  consi- 


RETURN  HOME. 


59 


dered  me  quite  qualified  to  become  clerk  to  a  Monthly 
Meeting — yes;  even  to  the  Yearly  Meeting.  No 
commendation  could  be  more  flattering  than  this. 
The  pious  girls,  who  were  always  doing  mean  things 
to  worm  themselves  into  her  favour,  were  amazed; 
and  I  departed,  laughing  and  triumphant. 


60 


I 

HOME. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Home — Dress — Piety  in  pattens — Inanity  of  Quakerism — Quarterly 
Meetings — Friend  Brown's  effrontery — Masquerades — Christ  called 
a  principle  and  not  a  person — Borrowing  money — The  sisters — 
Ben  and  his  breeches  pockets — Ignorance  of  use — Husband  and 
"Wife — Intemperance — The  Resurrection. 

Home,  delightful  happj  home !  what  a  multitude  of 
blessed  jojs  were  garnered  there !  It  seemed  as  if  a 
halo  of  peace  and  happiness  encircled  my  father,  and 
shed  its  glories  on  all  belonging  to  him.  I  have  heard 
a  Roman  Catholic  Priest  at  one  time,  and  a  good  old 
English  Quaker  at  another,  saj,  that  when  seated  be- 
side him,  they  felt  they  were  in  the  company  of  a 
child  of  God.  I  never  saw  him  angry,  or  heard  a 
hasty  word  out  of  his  lips.  When  any  one  displeased 
him,  he  would  become  very  grave,  and  look  sad.  The 
next  day  he  would  take  a  private  opportunity  of  speak- 
ing to  the  offender ;  and  always  so  kindly,  and  so  rea- 
sonably, and  so  scripturally  were  those  remonstrances 
and  reproofs  given,  that  they  were  invariably  effica- 
cious. 

Delighted  with  my  new  found  liberty,  I  now  in- 
dulged myself  somewhat  too  freely  in  the  use  of  those 
ribbons  and  blonds  in  which  young  girls  take  pleasure, 
but  which  are  so  little  in  accordance  with  the  "  sim- 


DRESS — PIETY  IN  PATTENS. 


61 


plicity  of  our  Christian  profession."  At  last,  my 
father  requested  me  to  lay  them  aside,  and  to  resume 
the  dress  of  our  people,  though  not  in  its  extreme 
plainness  and  ugliness.  To  gratify  him  was  far 
dearer  to  me  than  even  gay  attire,  and  I  arrayed 
myself  accordingly.  My  looking-glass  comforting 
me  with  its  assurance,  that  a  well-made  coquettish 
Quaker  bonnet,  was  by  no  means  an  unbecoming  one. 

There  was  a  man  Friend  in  our  Meeting,  who  had 
in  his  childhood  been  the  object  of  a  simple,  well- 
meaning  mother's  care.  With  the  view  of  making 
him  righteous,  she  had  kept  him  in  petticoats  until  he 
was  over  eight  years  old.  She  took  him  regularly  by 
the  hand  to  Meetings,  thus  dressed,  with  a  flat  white 
beaver  hat,  and  pattens  like  a  girl.  At  the  time  I 
speak  of,  he  was  a  portly  man,  but  still  he  bore  the 
name  of  Piety  in  Pattens. 

This  man  was  one  much  given  to  the  habit  of  en- 
couraging young  people  to  become  ^'standard bearers." 
If  he  saw  any  one  dressed  in  a  new  garb,  somewhat  of 
a  plainer  form  than  that  it  superseded,  he  would  smile 
sweetly  on  the  wearer.  In  shaking  hands,  he  would 
squeeze  youi*  fingers  with  a  significant  and  pleasing 
look,  at  the  improved  appearance.  And  if  you  took 
it  kindly,  you  might  be  morally  certain,  that  on  the 
first  opportunity,  you  would  be  appointed  to  one  of 
the  minor  offices  in  the  Society.  This  system  he  now 
began  to  try  on  me.  Unfortunately  for  his  designs,  I 
had  not  within  me  the  elements  of  Quakerism.  But, 
6 


^2  QUARTERLY  MEETINGS. 

indeed,  I  sincerely  hope,  the  work  I  am  now  writing, 
may  do  more  good  to  the  Society  than  I  should  ever 
have  done,  had  I  remained  amongst  them,  and  realized 
the  hope  so  often  expressed  to  me,  of  upholding  their 
doctrines  by  my  words  and  practice.    For  as 

"  Sin  is  a  monster  of  so  vile  a  mien, 
As  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen." 

so,  I  trust  the  dawdling  inanity  to  which  Quakerism 
is  now  sunk,  needs  but  to  be  exposed,  to  cause  the 
many  intelligent,  intellectual,  and  sensible  people,  who 
are  now  bound  to  it  by  a  species  of  moral  thraldom, 
to  arouse  themselves  and"  see,  whether  those  amongst 
them  who  are  now  quietly  allowed  to  take  the  lead, 
are  such  as  it  is  creditable  for  people  possessed  of 
common  sense  to  submit  to. 

Having  expressed  a  Avish  to  attend  the  Quarterly 
Meeting  at  Youghal,  my  father  asked  me  had  I  a  con- 
cern to  go  to  it  ?  I  told  him  no  religious  concern, 
but  a  good  deal  of  curiosity.  He  said  I  should  be 
gratified,  and  he  hoped  good  would  result  from  it.  He 
would  accompany  me  himself. 

I  had  a  week's  time  to  prepare,  to  get  new  dresses, 
and  all  the  needful  et  ceteras.  It  would  not  do  at  all, 
to  go  to  a  Quarterly  or  Yearly  Meeting  without  new 
clothes.  The  bonnet,  shawl,  and  gown,  must  have 
the  first  gloss  unsullied,  or  you  look  shabby  among 
the  crowd.  We  had  arranged  to  go  as  far  as  Lismore 
in  our  own  carriage,  stop  a  day  or  two  there,  to  see 
the  beautiful  scenery  of  the  Blackwater,  and  visit 


FRIEND  brown's  EFFRONTERY. 


68 


some  gentlemen  whom  my  father  wished  to  interest  in 
the  business  he  had  for  some  time  on  his  mind — the 
abolition  of  underground  dungeons  attached  to  prisons 
and  lock-up  houses — and  then  to  post  on  to  Youghal. 
More  than  half  my  anticipated  pleasui'e  was  in  the 
prospect  of  that  journey  with  my  own  dear  father. 

The  day  before  that  fixed  for  our  departure,  old 
Friend  Thomas  Brown,  came  to  speak  to  my  father. 
He  was  showed  into  the  parlour,  where  we  all  assem- 
bled just  after  breakfast.  After  the  customary  salu- 
tations, he  sat  down,  and  fell  into  silence.  Of  course 
we  all  wondered  what  was  coming;  but  we  respect- 
fully waited  until  he  was  ready  to  unburden  his  mind. 
At  last  he  began  by  saying,  how  greatly  he  was  im- 
pressed ^'with  the  beauty  of  the  simplicity  of  the 
truth ;  how  greatly  he  longed  that  his  young  friends 
could  be  made  willing  to  walk  in  it.  That  the  beauty 
of  the  simplicity  of  the  truth,  was  a  doctrine  too  high 
for  his  own  comprehension,  and  therefore  he  would 
greatly  recommend  us  to  cast  away  all  doubtings,  and 
hold  fast  by  the  beauty  of  the  simplicity  of  the  truth." 
Then  he  paused  a  bit  longer,  and  got  up,  as  if  to  go 
away ;  but  he  stopped  short,  and  addressing  my  father, 
said,  "I  heard  thee  was  going  to  Youghal  Meeting; 
is  any  of  thy  family  going  with  thee?"  ^'Yes,"  he 
replied,  ^^my  daughter  will  accompany  me,  I  expect." 
"Ah!"  said  he,  "I  was  thinking  so;  then  you  will 
just  have  room  for  my  cousin,  Betty  Brown,  between 
you.  She  has  a  concern  to  go,  and  I  did  not  well 
know  how  to  manage  for  her.    When  will  you  be 


64 


FRIEND  brown's  EFFRONTERY. 


Starting,  aud  I'll  tell  her  to  be  ready?"  The  cool 
efirontery  of  the  man,  took  us  all  by  surprise,  which 
was  turned  into  vexation,  when  my  father,  after  a 
moment's  reflection,  agreed  to  take  charge  of  the  old 
woman.  He  said  afterwards,  that  certainly  she  was 
not  the  companion  he  would  have  chosen,  but  he  did 
not  think  it  would  be  kind  to  refuse. 

This  Betty  Brown  was  a  little  mite  of  a  woman, 
always  wrapt  up  in  flannels  and  cloth  shawls  ;  so  fear- 
ful lest  she  should  catch  cold,  that  the  windows  of 
her  house  were  never  opened,  and  she  would  put  on 
her  bonnet  when  walking  from  one  room  to  another. 
Our  plans  were  all  disarranged  by  the  unwelcome 
intrusion ;  we  gave  up  our  visit  to  Lismore  and  the 
Blackwater ;  and  in  an  old  rumbling  post-chaise,  got 
over  the  ground  as  fast  as  we  could.  Betty,  scarcely 
spoke  at  all,  she  was  not  sufficiently  at  her  ease  to  ask 
to  have  both  windows  shut  up,  but  she  drew  her  mul- 
titudinous shawls  close  around  her,  and  made  her  wish 
intelligible.  And  as  we  took  no  notice  of  this  hint, 
she  stufi'ed  her  handkerchief  into  her  mouth,  to  keep 
out  the  breath  of  heaven  on  a  hot,  July  day.  She 
wanted  to  accompany  us  to  the  lodgings  we  had 
ordered  to  be  prepared  for  us,  and  said  her  cousin  had 
told  her  "she  might  have  half  of  my  bed."  There 
was  no  use  in  saying  anything  to  her ;  so  my  father 
ordered  the  driver  to  go  to  Friend  Levi's  shop,  which 
was  near  at  hand.  He  jumped  out,  and  saw  Friend 
Levi,  and  told  the  circumstance,  asking  him  to  pro- 
cure suitable  accommodation  for  Betty,  and  engaging 


MASQUERADE. 


65 


to  pay  for  it.  "  I'll  keep  her  myself,"  said  he,  and 
if  thee  will  give  me  three  poimds,  111  engage  to  send 
her  back  safely  too,  without  annoying  thee  any  more." 
It  was  a  cheap  riddance,  the  money  was  paid  on  the 
spot,  and  Betty  handed  out  of  the  chaise.  ^N^either 
she  nor  her  cousin  Tom,  ever  offered  to  repay  this 
money.  She  was  poor,  but  he  was  as  rich  as  he  was 
mean-spirited. 

The  Meeting  was  but  a  small  one,  only  our  own 
preachers,  and  but  very  few  parties  given.  An  aunt 
of  mine  had  come  up  to  attend  the  meeting,  in  her 
own  carriage.  "Whilst  my  father  was  attending  on 
the  committees,  I  was  driving  about  the  country  with 
her,  seeing  all  that  was  to  be  seen.  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh's  old  house,  and  its  beautiful  chimney-piece 
of  carved  wood — a  perfect  gem  of  its  kind — and  the 
famous  myrtle  tree. 

Soon  after  this,  I  attended  a  Cork  Quarterly  Meet- 
ing. We  lodged  at  the  hotel ;  there  was  another 
Friend's  party  stopping  there  also;  and,  as  we  had 
some  previous  acquaintance  with  them,  we  became 
intimate  for  the  time  being.  Having  one  day  declined 
to  accompany  my  father  to  a  tea-party,  because  I 
expected  it  would  be  a  very  stupid  affair,  and  these 
other  Friends  having  heard  me  say  so,  as  soon  as  he 
was  gone,  they  came  to  my  sitting  room,  and  actually 
proposed  to  me  to  accompany  them  to  a  public  mas- 
querade ball,  which  was  to  take  place  that  night.  I 
was  horrified  at  the  idea  of  doing  such  a  thing,  and 
thought  they  were  jesting  with  me.  But  they  sen- 
6* 


66 


MASQUERADE. 


ously  assured  me  that  they  had  come  up  from  the 
country,  entirely  for  the  sake  of  it,  and  attending  the 
Meeting  was  a  capital  plan  to  put  the  old  Friends  off 
from  any  chance  of  discovering  it,  or  suspecting 
them. 

Such  expedients  as  this,  are  often  resorted  to  by 
young  Friends,  to  enable  them  to  partake  in  the 
amusements  of  the  public.  I  was  frequently  invited 
to  join  with  them,  and  laughed  at  heartily  for  my 
scruples ;  for  as  I  had  not  the  look  of  a  very  plain 
Friend,  they  took  it  for  granted  I  had  no  principles 
to  regulate  my  conduct. 

The  business  of  the  Cork  Meeting  was  as  usual,  a 
mere  routine  of  that  laid  down  in  the  Book  of  Disci- 
pline. In  the  preaching  part,  which  was  far  below 
mediocrity,  one  Friend  told  us  that  "  Christ  was  to  be 
considered  as  a  principle,  not  as  a  person,"  and  no 
one  objected  to  the  heresy. 

I  have,  from  time  to  time,  attended  almost  every 
one  of  the  Irish  Meetings.  Our  own  was  always  the 
most  interesting.  We  saw  a  good  deal  of  company ; 
in  fact,  kept  open  house  for  about  a  week.  Our  pre- 
parations generally  commenced  about  a  month  before- 
hand. We  were  a  very  large  family,  and  must  each, 
and  all,  have  new  dresses  in  the  first  place.  Then 
the  rooms  were  revivified,  and  everything  showy  put 
carefully  away.  Our  object  was,  to  have  everything 
and  every  one,  enveloped  in  a  pleasing,  delicate,  and 
graceful  drab.  And  as  flowers  are  an  allowed  indul- 
gence, and  we  had  them  in  vast  profusion,  the  con- 


BORROWING  MONEY. 


67 


trast  was  elegant  and  enlivening.  There  was  one 
minister  who  regularly  came  to  us  at  these  times. 
She  was  elderly,  strikingly  plain  every  way,  and  rich. 
She  was  an  epicurean,  and  much  time,  cost,  and 
thought  were  given,  to  have  delicate  morsels  at  all 
times  for  her.  This  valuable  minister,  as  they  called 
her,  had  a  habit  of  borrowing  money,  not  for  herself, 
but  for  the  use  of  different  persons  in  whom  she  was 
interested,  and  she  would  give  her  word  as  security. 
My  poor  dear  father  was  often  and  heavily  victimized. 
After  eating  a  luxurious  dinner,  she  would  begin  to 
get  very  silent ;  her  silence  against  tea-time  came, 
would  mount  up  to  solemnity.  When  that,  with  hot 
muffins  and  plum  cake,  had  been  despatched,  she 
would  lay  down  her  knitting,  and  begin  to  twirl  her 
thumbs.  Then,  significant  glances  at  my  father  ;  and 
he,  dear  credulous  creature,  would  desire  us  all  to  lay 
by  our  various  employments,  and  drop  into  silence. 
After  this  had  continued  about  eight  or  ten  minutes, 
she  would  unbm-then  herself.  Generally  beginning 
with  a  text  of  Scripture,  such  as — "  To  obey  is  better 
than  sacrifice."  She  would  give  a  very  good  lecture 
on  it  for  about  five  minutes.  She  never  could  keep 
on  much  longer,  though  she  often  tried.  Then  ano- 
ther long  silence,  and  then  she  would  kick  the  foot- 
stool on  one  side — a  method  of  intimating  that  we 
might  go  about  our  business.  And,  addi-essing  my 
father,  she  would  beg  him  to  oblige  her  with  five 
minutes'  conversation  in  another  room.  Well  he 
knew,  and  we  all  knew,  what  was  coming  now.  The 


68 


THE  SISTERS. 


amount  slie  would  require  him  to  give  was  the  only 
doubtful  point.  Rather  than  we  should  entertain  any 
disrespectful  feeling  towards  an  acknowledged  minis- 
ter of  the  Society,  who  professed  to  be  led  and  guided 
in  all  things  by  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  he  would  yield 
to  her  demand.  Sometimes  it  was  for  one  hundred 
pounds,  sometimes  fifty ;  and  we,  rather  than  distress 
him,  would  pretend  we  had  no  suspicion  of  her  trick- 
ery. She  borrowed  from  him  upwards  of  five  hundred 
pounds  in  this  manner,  and  never  repaid  it,  or  gave 
him  such  guarantees,  as  would  have  enabled  him  to 
make  a  legal  demand  on  her  executors,  when  she  died, 
leaving  a  property  of  nine  hundred  a  year. 

There  was  a  testimony  issued  by  the  Meeting,  as 
is  generally  done  for  departed  ministers,  for  this 
Friend.  In  it  she  was  represented  as  an  ornament 
to  the  Society,  an  experienced  and  devoted  minister 
of  the  Gospel  of  Peace ;  in  short,  she  was  made  to 
appear  as  if  a  concentration  of  all  virtue,  faith,  and 
godliness,  had  been  perfected  in  her. 

Our  Quarterly  Meeting  parties  were  often  very 
amusing.  I  was  invited  to  a  large  first  day  dinner, 
at  which  I  met,  amongst  others,  five  sisters.  They 
were  aged  from  about  twenty-five  to  seventeen,  all 
well  looking,  the  youngest  quite  handsome.  They 
were  all  dressed  exactly  alike,  in  dark  greenish  tabi- 
nets,  muslin  kerchief,  plaited  over  the  dress,  and  mus- 
lin mob  caps.  The  eldest  had  been  a  constant  at- 
tendant of  these  Meetings ;  the  four  others  were  now 
brought  out  for  the  first  time.  They  had  been  desired, 


THE  SISTERS. 


69 


when  leaving  home,  to  behave  like  Anne,  the  eldest, 
to  do  whatsoever  she  did,  to  copy  her.  The  dinner 
provided  for  us  was  at  the  head  of  the  table — a  fine 
large  loin  of  roast  veal,  with  force-meats,  &c.  At  the 
foot  was  a  cold  joint  of  roast  beef.  At  one  side,  a 
ham ;  at  the  other,  boiled  chickens,  and  vegetables  in 
variety.  The  sisters  ranged  themselves  according  to 
their  ages,  at  one  side.  Friend  Tench,  the  hostess, 
addressing  one  of  the  younger  ones,  asked — "  Jane, 
may  I  help  thee  to  some  roast  veal?"  She  glanced 
at  Anne,  looked  timid,  and  then  said,  Oh  I  I'm 
obliged  to  thee,  not  yet ;  I'll  wait  abit."  Friend 
Tench  then  addressed  another — "  Susanna,  may  I 
help  thee?"  ^' Til  wait  a  bit,  too,  if  thee  please," 
said  Susanna.  Friend  Tench  tried  again.  "  Rebecca, 
will  thee  have  some  veal?"  "I'll  wait  a  bit,  too,  if 
thee  please,"  said  Rebecca.  Friend  Trench  did  not 
know  what  to  make  of  it,  but  she  tried  again,  and 
addressed  the  eldest.  "  Anne,  what  will  thee  take  ?" 
"  I'll  take  some  cold  roast  beef ;  I  like  cold  meat  on 
first  days,"  said  Anne.  She  was  helped.  And  then 
again,  Jane,  and  Susanna,  and  Rebecca,  and  Martha, 
were  asked,  and  each  one  answered  in  the  same  words 
as  Anne — "  I'll  take  some  cold  roast  beef,  if  thee 
please.  I  like  cold  meat  on  first  days."  They  were 
all  helped,  and  presently  Anne  handed  up  the  plate, 
and  said,  "  Will  thee  give  me  a  little  of  that  nice  gra- 
vy, and  a  bit  of  force-meat?"  She  got  it,  and  up 
came  the  other  plates,  one  after  another,  in  their  re- 
gular ages,  from  the  other  foui',  and  each  saying — 


70 


THE  SISTERS. 


"  Will  thee  give  me  a  little  of  that  nice  gravy,  and  a 
bit  of  force-meat?"  It  Avas  difficult  to  maintain  due 
gravity.  In  fact,  the  effort  to  do  so  was  painful ;  and 
when  the  second  course  was  placed  on  the  table,  and, 
"  I'll  take  some  rice  pudding,  if  thee  please,  I'm  very 
fond  of  rice  pudding,"  was  again  echoed,  and  re- 
echoed by  the  sisters,  there  was  more  than  one  of  the 
company  obliged  to  leave  the  room,  not  to  annoy 
Friends  by  the  mal-a-propos  fit  of  coughing  which 
seized  them. 

The  sisters  left  the  house  soon  after  dinner,  and 
were,  as  usual,  commented  on  immediately  after. 
"  One  would  think  they  had  no  sense,"  said  one 
Friend,  repeating  every  word  that  Anne  said,  like 
parrots."  "  Ah !  no,"  said  kind  and  charitable  Friend 
Tench,  "  they  are  young  and  innocent.  They  only 
showed  the  simplicity  of  their  minds,  by  copying 
Anna  a  little  too  closely." 

Not  long  after,  we  heard  that  Rebecca,  the  simple- 
minded  innocent,  had  been  detected  in  the  act  of 
eloping  with  a  dragoon  soldier,  with  whom  she  had 
made  acquaintance  in  the  streets.  Anne  had  her 
immediately  conveyed  to  a  very  lonely  house  in  the 
country,  and  great  pains  were  taken  to  keep  the 
affair  secret,  lest,  as  the  Friends  said,  it  might  bring 
discredit  on  the  cause  of  truth.  "Not  so,"  said  my 
mother,  "  let  it  be  known ;  there  is  no  harm  done ; 
it  is  but  the  act  of  a  silly  ignorant  girl,  and  perhaps 
it  may  convince  some  Friends,  that  the  practice  they 
dwell  so  much  on,  of  keeping  their  young  people  out 


BEN  AND  HIS  BREECHES  POCKET. 


71 


of  temptation,  is  a  very  inefficient  one.  Give  them 
principles  to  resist  temptation ;  for  all  you  can  do  is 
in  vain,  whilst  you  neglect  to  teach  them  the  law  of 
the  Lord." 

In  our  drawing-rooms,  the  elder  women  Friends 
were  always  given  the  upper  and  best  seats ;  next  to 
them,  sat  the  younger  women  and  girls,  and  the  men 
were  crowded  near  the  door.  A  very  plain  man  or 
two,  would  be  allowed  to  sit  among  the  elder  women — 
the  rest  were  almost  as  much  apart  as  on  the  Meet- 
ing's seats.  No  one  seemed  ever  to  think  of  changing 
their  chair.  Once  placed,  you  had  to  remain  fixed 
the  whole  evening,  so  that  it  was  a  matter  of  conse- 
quence on  coming  into  the  room,  to  select  an  agreea- 
ble, chatty  neighboui*  for  the  time  being.  If  you  had 
not  that,  the  only  entertainment  was  listening  to 
others.  I  was  often  so  placed,  and  yet  had  my  full 
share  of  enjoyment. 

There  was  one  Benjamin,  a  youth  of  the  very 
straitest.  His  father  had  taken  him  away  from  school, 
after  the  first  quarter,  because  the  boy  had  said  you^ 
instead  of  thee.  The  father  said,  his  son  had  already 
grown  vicious.  So  poor  Benjamin  got  no  more  school- 
ing. He  told  us  that  the  height  of  his  ambition  was 
to  be  door-keeper  to  the  Meeting,  and  to  be  allowed 
to  snufi*  the  candles.  Bess  Chapman,  who  knew  him 
well,  had  heard  him  one  day  regretting  that  no  female 
had  ever  written  to  him ;  and  to  gratify  the  simple 
boy,  she  wrote  him  a  note,  asking  him  could  he  tell 
her  was  there  a  copy  of  the  Life  of  William  Penn  in 


72 


BEN  AND  HIS  BREECHES  POCKET. 


the  Meeting  Library  ?  Ben  was  delighted ;  he  had 
at  last  a  woman's  letter.  He  boasted  of  it.  He  tan- 
talized his  brother  Dick  by  showing  him  the  outside. 
He  looked  gloriously  happy,  and  walked  more  lightly 
than  ever.  He  met  Bess,  and  thanked  her  ;  and  she 
said,  "  mind  and  keep  it  safe,  Ben.  It  is  not  every 
young  man  I  would  write  to."  Soon  after,  as  Bess 
was  seated  among  her  own  companions,  Dick  stum- 
bled across  the  room.  "Well,"  said  he,  "I  saw  thy 
letter  to  Ben."  Ben  was  summoned  over.  "  Ah ! 
Ben,"  said  she,  "I  did  not  expect  thee  would  show 
my  letter." 

"  I  did  not  show  it  to  any  body,"  said  Ben. 

"  I  saw  it,"  said  Dick. 

"  No,  thee  did  not,"  replied  Ben. 

"  Indeed  I  did,  Bess,"  said  Dick,  again. 

"  How  is  this,  Ben?"  said  she  ;  "this  is  a  serious 
matter,  I  must  know  all  about  it." 

Poor  Ben  was  ready  to  cry.  "Don't  believe  him," 
said  he,  "he  is  telling  lies." 

"  I  am  not  telling  lies,"  said  the  other,  "  I  read 
it ;  it  is  about  William  Penn;  now  did  not  I  read  it." 

Bess  put  on  a  grave  face.  "  Tell  me,  Ben,"  said 
she  severely,  "has  thee  left  my  note  carelessly  about 
for  people  to  read?" 

"No,"  said  he,  "indeed  I  did  not,  I  kept  it  al- 
ways rammed  down  into  the  bottom  of  my  breeches 
pocket." 

"  And  when  thee  was  asleep  at  night,  I  stole  it  out 
of  thy  pocket,  and  read  it,"  said  Dick. 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE. 


73 


Both  of  these  sensible  youths  were  shortly  after 
promoted  in  the  Meeting. 

Ignorance  is  no  disqualification  for  Friends  ;  on  the 
contrary,  when  a  strong-minded  woman  is  in  autho- 
rity, she  likes  to  have  her  nominees  in  the  men's 
Meeting,  sufficiently  devoid  of  learning  and  natural 
intelligence,  to  be  her  willing  coadjutors. 

As  our  ministers  so  constantly  reminded  us,  that 
we  were  a  more  spiritually-minded  people  than  any 
others — that  our  profession  was  the  high  and  holy 
one,  of  being  "  at  all  times  led  and  guided  by  the 
Spirit  of  Truth" — it  was  only  natural,  that  I  should 
expect  to  find  something  superior  in  the  general 
tone  of  conversation,  and  attentively  listen  when 
plain  friends  were  conversing  near  me. 

I  was  seated  between  Rebecca  Stubbs  and  Anne 
Woods,  at  a  large  Quarterly  Meeting  tea  party. 
"Anne,"  said  Rebecca,  "it  is  a  long  time  since  I  met 
thee :  six  or  seven  years  I  think.  Thee  used  to  attend 
our  Quarterly  Meetings  much  more  frequently.  How 
is  that  ?  I  hope  thee  has  not  lost  thy  interest  in  the 
discipline  of  our  Society." 

"Oh!  no,"  said  Anne,  "but  I  was  not  married 
then.  I  thought  when  I  was  marrying  Isaac,  that 
there  would  be  nobody  to  prevent  me  going  to  all  the 
Meetings ;  and  indeed,  Rebecca,  that  was  a  great  part 
of  the  reason  I  married  him  at  all,  but  he  wont  let 
me  go." 

"I  am  surprised  to  hear  thee  saying  so,"  replied 
Rebecca;  "for  Isaac  is  a  very  consistent  Friend;  he 
7 


74 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE. 


takes  rather  a  prominent  part  in  the  discipline  him- 
self, and  his  judgment  is  considered  to  be  very  sound." 

"I  know  that,"  said  the  wife,  "but  for  all  that,  he 
is  very  positive  with  me.  When  I  told  him,  I  wished 
to  go  to  any  of  the  Quarterly  Meetings,  and  I  even 
told  him  that  it  was  strongly  borne  in  on  my  mind, 
that  my  concern  to  go  was  not  altogether  of  myself: 
he  said,  it  was  fitter  for  me  to  stay  at  home,  and  mind 
my  children.  And  more  than  that,  Rebecca,  he  said, 
that  our  Women's  Meetings  were  all  humbug ;  that  it 
was  only  for  the  sake  of  getting  new  bonnets,  and  new 
gowns,  and  shawls,  and  good  eating,  and  talking  among 
ourselves,  that  we  wanted  to  go  at  all.  He  would  not 
have  let  me  come  here  now,  only  that  I  nursed  him 
so  well  during  his  long  illness,  that  he  said  he  would 
not  refuse  me  a  little  pleasure." 

"Thee  astonishes  me,"  said  Rebecca;  "why  Anne 
dear,  thee  is  to  be  pitied.  Thee  has  a  great  deal  to 
bear  with." 

"Oh!"  replied  Anne,  "I  hope  thee  does  not  think 
I  said  any  thing  against  my  husband.  Isaac  is  very 
good  and  kind  to  me,  I  have  not  any  fault  at  all  to 
find  with  him." 

As  Friends  allow  of  no  pastime  whatever  at  these 
parties,  the  only  occupation  is  eating,  drinking,  and 
talking.  These  were  often  indulged  in  to  excess.  I 
have  seen  the  men  reeling  into  the  drawing-room, 
and  heard  them  boast  of  having  each  got  through 
fourteen  tumblers  of  punch.  I  have  heard  them 
taunt  a  young  man,  and  call  him  a  "paper  skull," 


THE  RESURRECTION. 


75 


because  he  had  refused  to  drink  more  than  one  tum- 
bler of  punch.  I  have  seen  some  of  these  high  pro- 
fessors, indulge  in  unbounded  gormandizing ;  and  in 
eating,  though  happily  not  in  drinking,  some  of  the 
women  rival  the  men. 

Friends  do  not  approve  of  talking  on  religion. 
They  say  it  is  too  solemn  a  subject  to  be  discussed  in 
a  familiar  manner;  and  especially  conversation  on 
doctrinal  points  is  reprobated.  Nevertheless,  I  some- 
times heard  opinions  expressed,  which  were  charming 
from  their  novelty,  if  nothing  else. 

"Susanna,"  said  I,  "when  a  person  dies,  where 
does  the  spirit  go  to?" 

"To  heaven,  my  dear,  of  course." 

"What  appearance  will  the  spirit  have?" 

"We  do  not  know,  my  dear,  but  it  will  have 
wings." 

"Will  it  bear  any  resemblance  to  our  forms  here 
on  earth?" 

"Oh I  dear,  no;  for  flesh  and  blood  cannot  inherit 
the  kingdom  of  God." 

"  Can  the  spirit  of  a  man  be  seen  at  all  in  heaven?" 

"Oh!  yes,  at  least  the  wings  will  be  seen." 

Susanna  was  an  elder,  and  of  course  competent  to 
explain  Friends'  views.  From  her,  I  understood  that 
spii'its  in  heaven  were  something  like  butterflies  on 
earth,  flying  about  in  great  enjoyment,  and  ha\dng 
nothing  to  do. 

"Martha,"  said  I,  to  another  elder,  a  nice,  dear 
old  woman,  of  whom  I  was  very  fond,  "can  thee  tell 


76 


THE  RESURRECTION. 


me  what  the  Scripture  means  by  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead?" 

"  Certainly,  dear ;  it  is,  that  though  our  bodies  must 
die,  and  be  consigned  to  the  dark  tomb,  our  spirits 
will  live  for  ever  in  heaven." 

"But,  Martha,  surely  the  spirit  never  dies;  it  can- 
not be  that ;  the  body  dies,  but  not  the  spirit.  Is  it 
not  so?" 

"Ah!  my  dear,  we  must  not  take  a  carnal  view  of 
the  subject.  These  bodies  of  ours  are  worn  out  on 
earth ;  we  shall  have  prepared  bodies  given  to  us ;  but 
it  is,  when  we  become  quickened  by  the  workings  of 
the  Spirit  of  Life  within  us,  that  we  are  raised  from 
the  death  of  sin,  and  brought  into  the  newness  of  life." 

The  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  is  not 
held  by  Friends  generally.  They  confound  it  with 
regeneration.  They  spiritualize  away  the  words  of 
Scripture,  and  hold  their  own  mystical  interpretation. 
I  do  not  allude  to  Friends'  writings,  or  to  the  author- 
ized expression  of  their  doctrines.  I  am  merely  stating 
what  they  are,  as  far  as  my  own  observation  and  ex- 
perience go. 


CURIOUS  PREACHINGS. 


77 


CHAPTER  V. 

Curious  Preachings — Printed  Creed — Sermon  against  shells,  corals, 
and  natural  curiosities — Unwillingness  of  Friends  to  speak  in 
Meetings — Guides — Travelling  Friends — Women  Preachers'  Fa- 
milies— Broad  Brims  to  escape  disownment — Poor  Committee — 
Provincial  Schools — False  Accusation. 

One  of  our  ministers  had  been  appointed  to  the 
office,  very  much  against  the  judgment  of  the  majority 
of  the  meeting.  But  she  had  interest  and  family  con- 
nections with  several  of  the  elders  and  overseers,  and 
so  she  attained  the  acme  of  her  ambition.  Her 
preaching  was  very  extraordinary.  She  would  say, 
that  she  knew  very  well  that  her  preaching  was  not 
liked ;  she  expected  no  less ;  it  was  only  the  spiritually- 
minded  who  could  understand  and  value  a  spiritual 
ministry.  It  was  not  her  business  to  preach  such 
things  as  would  please  the  carnal  heart — carnal  ears 
would  want  carnal  words.  She  was  not  bound  to 
please,  and  she  did  not  want  to  please,  and  she  would 
not  pin  her  faith  on  any  man's  sleeve.  This  Friend 
very  rarely  attempted  to  quote  Scripture,  and  when 
she  did,  it  was  often  incorrectly.  To  look  at  her 
speaking,  you  would  think  she  was  in  a  passion,  she 
often  stamped  her  foot,  and  gesticulated  violently.  I 
often  tried  to  make  a  caricature  sketch  of  her,  but 
7* 


78 


PRINTED  CREED. 


in  vain ;  no  caricature  could  equal  the  original  gro- 
tesque writhings  of  her  form  and  features. 

There  was  a  man  also  in  our  Meeting,  who,  though 
he  was  not  an  acknowledged  minister,  was  a  permitted 
one.  He,  too,  often  gave  us  very  queer  sermons ;  but 
they  were  better  than  the  lady's,  for  if  they  did  no 
good,  they  could  do  but  little  harm,  as  nobody  could 
by  any  possibility  understand  them.  It  was  not  un- 
usual to  hear  him  end  thus: — "I  don't  know  whether 
you  understand  me.  It  is  very  likely  you  don't.  But 
I  know  myself  what  I  mean." 

In  consequence  of  these  odd  preachings,  a  report 
was  spread  through  the  town,  that  the  Quakers  were 
mere  ranters,  that  they  were  not  Christians.  My 
father  was  deeply  grieved  about  it.  He  spoke  to 
many  of  the  Friends,  but  was  not  satisfied  at  the  in- 
difference they  expressed  to  public  opinion.  He  then 
consulted  with  my  mother,  and  the  result  was  that  he 
drew  up  a  creed  of  what  Friends'  belief  was,  taken 
from  that  published  by  William  Penn,  and  caused  it 
to  be  inserted  in  each  of  the  newspapers,  signed  with 
his  own  name,  and  the  names  of  two  others,  whom  he 
prevailed  on  to  sign  it. 

The  day  after  it  had  been  published,  I  was  walking 
with  my  father,  when  we  met  the  Dean.  He  slipped 
his  arm  inside  my  father's,  and  said — "  Well,  John,  I 
have  been  reading  your  creed  this  morning.  How  is 
it  that  none  of  your  preachers  have  signed  it?"  He 
replied,  that  it  was  not  customary  for  women  to  sign 
public  documents.  "But,"  said  the  Dean,  "when 
they  perform  public  acts,  and  bring  discredit  on  pub- 


SERMON  AGAINST  SHELLS. 


79 


lie  bodies,  ought  they  not  publicly  to  repair  the  evil 
done  ?  Ah !  John,  I  know  very  well  how  it  is.  That 
creed  is  your  creed,  not  theirs.  Good  bye.  You  are 
a  great  deal  too  good  for  the  people  you  belong  to." 

After  this,  as  if  to  defy  public  opinion,  the  same 
Martha  became  more  violent  in  her  declamations, 
more  absurd  in  her  choice  of  topics  for  discourse; 
may  I  not  say,  more  blasphemous  in  her  assumptions 
of  Divine  inspiration.  And  yet,  there  we  sat.  Sab- 
bath after  Sabbath,  year  after  year,  silently  listening 
to  these  atrocious  outpom-ings  of  a  self-righteous  and 
very  conceited  fanatic.  Upwards  of  three  hundred 
sensible  men  and  women,  solemnly  respectful  hearers 
of  the  rankest  nonsense. 

In  our  Women's  Monthly  Meetings,  she  was  even 
worse,  if  possible.  The  minutest  trifle  in  which  she 
knew  of  any  one  disagreeing  with  her  opinion,  im- 
mediately became  the  subject  of  invective.  Even  her 
own  sisters  were  not  spared.  One  of  them  had  a 
taste  for  collecting  shells,  spars,  minerals,  and  corals ; 
and  one  day  she  placed  some  choice  specimens  on  the 
chimney-piece  of  their  common  sitting-room.  Martha 
saw,  but  said  nothing  to  her  sister  at  the  time.  She 
gathered  up,  and  nursed  her  wrath  until  the  next 
Monthly  Meeting,  and  then  pom-ed  it  out.  I  fancy 
I  can  see  her  now,  as  she  stood  on  her  elevated  plat- 
form, her  bonnet  poking  at  least  six  inches  over  her 
face,  her  bosom  tightly  braced  in  a  dark  drab  skinny 
shawl.  Her  long  arms,  swaying  round  and  round  in 
her  excitement,  and  occasionally  a  stamp  of  the  angry 


80 


SERMON  AGAINST  SHELLS. 


foot.  And  when,  by  her  very  vehemence  her  breath- 
ing failed,  she  would  stop  a  moment,  knit  her  brows, 
and  drawing  her  thin  lips  apart,  clench  her  large  black 
teeth.  And  what  was  the  subject  of  this  invective. 
"  That  people  professing  the  high  character  of 
spirituality  which  belonged  to  the  Society  of  Friends ; 
that  the  descendants  of  those  worthy  predecessors  to 
whom  it  was  given  nobly  and  boldly  to  testify  against 
the  vanities  and  corruptions  of  the  world;  that  such 
highly  favoured  ones,  should  blindly  fall  into  the  snare 
of  the  devil ;  that  the  shining  of  the  light  within  should 
be  so  neglected  and  disregarded ;  that  occasion  should 
be  given  to  the  adversary  to  reproach  the  true  seed, 
by  the  specious  notion,  that  it  was  no  harm  to  indulge 
a  taste  for  the  beauties  of  nature,  by  collecting  spars, 
and  shells,  and  corals.  Oh !  it  was  a  specious  device  of 
the  arch  enemy :  first,  they  are  looked  at,  and  admired ; 
then  they  are  bought,  and  the  eye  gratified  with  their 
shining  colours.  And  Satan  wont  stop  there.  Oh ! 
no ;  then  they  are  put  on  the  chimney-piece,  and  the 
attention  is  distracted  from  its  holy  meditations ;  then 
the  enemy  triumphs,  and  the  soul  is  lost — lost  for- 
ever." She  assured  us  that  it  was  entirely  without 
her  own  will  that  she  spoke  thus ;  but  that  the  call 
was  so  decided,  that  she  dare  not  be  unfaithful,  or 
peril  her  own  peace  by  keeping  silence. 

The  preachers  of  the  Society — all  of  them,  men  and 
women,  the  very  best  of  them — are  constantly  in  the 
habit  of  saying,  that  it  is  against  their  own  will  that 
they  stand  up  to  speak  in  Meetings ;  that  it  is  very 


GUIDES. 


81 


painful  to  them  to  have  to  address  their  Friends. 
And  that  they  are  compelled  to  speak,  by  the  fear  of 
the  light  which  is  in  them  being  withdrawn,  if  they 
sit  quiet.  They  say,  "they  have  been  made  willing 
to  give  up  to  the  requirings  of  truth."  In  fact,  they 
give  their  hearers  to  understand,  that  they  consider 
they  have  conferred  a  compliment  on  the  Almighty, 
in  consenting  to  do  his  work.  Instead  of  being,  as 
good  and  faithful  servants,  glad  of  an  opportunity  of 
service,  they  tell  us  they  perform  it  unwillingly,  and 
as  a  distasteful  task.  How  strange !  Can  it  be,  that 
any  appointed  minister,  who  has  himself  drank  of  the 
cup  of  salvation,  and  who  knows  the  only  way  which 
God  has  revealed  to  man,  whereby  atonement  for  sin- 
ners may  be  made — can  such  a  one,  see  souls  perish- 
ing for  lack  of  that  knowledge,  and  feel  it  irksome  to 
instruct  them  ?  Impossible.  The  true  minister  of  the 
Gospel  delights  in  his  calling ;  it  is  his  meat  and  drink 
to  do  his  Master's  work,  and  to  bring  sinners  to  the 
knowledge  of  salvation  by  the  blood  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ. 

It  is  customary  to  draw  out  a  list  of  the  names  of 
all  the  young  men  belonging  to  each  Meeting.  They 
are  then  expected,  in  rotation,  to  act  as  guides  to 
Friends  travelling  in  the  ministry ;  and  if  these  min- 
isters wish  it,  (as  with  a  few  honourable  exceptions, 
they  always  do,)  to  pay  their  travelling  expenses  for 
them. 

The  guide  thus  acts  as  courier,  and  the  ministers 
are  raised  in  general  estimation  by  this  deferential 


82 


TRAVELLING  FRIENDS. 


attention.  Some  of  the  young  men  do  not  at  all  like 
the  office  imposed  upon  them.  Others,  candidates  for 
office,  deem  it  an  honour.  An  acquaintance  of  mine 
had  repeatedly  tried  to  evade  the  disagreeable  duty, 
but  in  vain ;  at  last  he  resolved  to  play  them  a  trick, 
and  did  so.  The  minister,  and  his  attendant  friend, 
an  elder ;  they  always  travel  in  couples,  something  on 
the  same  plan  as  the  Jesuits,  who  appoint  one  of  their 
body  to  be  a  guardian  angel  to  their  novices,  in  reality 
to  watch  that  no  cause  of  scandal  shall  arise  to  the 
Society.  These  friends  travelled  in  a  very  snug  close 
carriage,  which  only  held  two.  The  guide  was  ex- 
pected to  ride  his  own  horse  beside  them,  a  distance 
of  twenty  miles,  the  weather  cold  and  wet.  He  con- 
trived that  both  his  own  horse  and  theirs,  should  begin 
to  flag  on  the  road  as  they  approached  any  town  or 
village ;  then  he  kept  them  shivering  in  the  cold  for 
a  time  sufficiently  long  to  make  them  unwilling  to 
refuse  the  glasses  of  good  strong  punch  he  presented 
to  them.  And  against  the  journey  was  ended,  he  had 
them  both  in  a  state  of  uproarious  hilarity,  which 
startled  the  sober  quiet  family  who  had  been  all  day 
expecting  them.  The  guide  hurried  away;  and,  as 
he  anticipated,  was  never  again  asked  to  act  as  courier 
to  travelling  Ministers. 

When  a  minister  inclines  to  travel,  he,  or  I  should 
say,  she — for  there  were  then  only  two  men  ministers 
in  all  Ireland,  and  a  host  of  women — is  expected  to 
announce  their  intention  on  the  First  Day  Morning 
Meeting.    When  the  Friends  have  shaken  hands,  the 


TRAVELLIXG  FRIENDS. 


83 


way  they  always  break  up  Meeting,  the  Clerk  calls 
out,  "Members  are  requested  to  keep  their  seats." 
All  who  are  not  Members  must  walk  away.  Then 
the  minister  rises,  and  lays  her  concern  before  the 
Meeting;  and  hopes  her  Friends  will  express  their 
feelings  on  the  subject,  as  though  she  is  made  willing 
to  surrender  herself  to  the  service  required,  she  is 
also  wilhng  to  leave  the  matter  to  the  decision  of  her 
Friends.  Then,  one  after  another,  the  plain  Friends 
will  rise,  and  say,  they  "feel  unity  with  the  dear 
Friend  in  her  prospect  of  service;"  or,  they  "hope 
their  dear  Friend  will  be  strengthened  to  perform  the 
arduous  undertaking  she  has  laid  before  them."  This 
is  the  usual  routine.  On  one  occasion  in  our  Meet- 
ing, a  man  Friend  rose  after  these  customary  speeches 
had  been  made,  and  said,  "I  think  it  would  be  satisfac- 
tory, if  our  Friend  would  inform  us  what  the  duty  is 
to  which  she  considers  herself  called?"  She  rose, 
and  somewhat  haughtily,  replied,  "  She  wished  to  ob- 
tain a  certificate  from  the  Monthly  Meeting  to  enable 
her  to  visit  the  families  of  Friends  residing  within  the 
compass  of  the  Dublin  Monthly  Meeting,  and  also 
some  other  parts  of  the  Leinster  province."  The 
same  Friend,  again  asked,  "Will  our  Friend  inform 
us,  is  it  her  design  to  visit  Friends'  families  generally 
through  the  province  of  Leinster,  or  only  the  Meet- 
ings?" She  was  very  much  annoyed  at  these  ques- 
tions,  and  replied,  "  She  hoped  Friends  would  leave 
her  at  liberty  to  follow  the  leadings  of  conscience." 
Another  then  stood  up,  and  addressing  the  questioner, 


84 


WOMEN  preachers'  FAMILIES. 


began — "Take  off  thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet,  for  the 
place  whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground."  An- 
other said,  "When  Ephraim  spake  trembling,  he  ex- 
alted himself;  but  when  he  offended  in  Baal,  he  died." 
Of  course  nobody  else  volunteered  to  question  or 
gainsay  the  Friend's  proposal,  for  it  is  not  pleasant 
to  get  even  a  pious  rebuff  in  so  public  a  manner. 

This  was  the  only  occasion  on  which  I  heard  the 
slightest  demur  made  at  granting  the  required  certifi- 
cate ;  but  my  mother  told  me,  that  in  another  Meet- 
ing a  woman,  one  first  day,  laid  before  the  Meeting, 
her  "concern  to  perform  the  arduous  undertaking  of 
visiting  Meetings  in  England,  and  sitting  with  fami- 
lies as  often,  and  wherever,  truth  might  open  the 
way."  Immediately  as  she  resumed  her  seat  in  the 
gallery,  her  husband,  far  down  in  the  Meeting,  an 
honest,  quiet,  sensible  looking  man,  rose  up  and  said 
— "  He  hoped  Friends  would  not  encourage  his  wife 
in  the  plan  she  had  taken  into  her  head  of  travelling 
in  England.  That  she  was  acting  in  opposition  to  his 
known  wishes.  That  it  was  an  unnatural  thing  of  her 
to  leave  her  baby,  three  months  old,  and  five  small 
children,  to  go  pleasuring  for  two  years  in  England, 
the  time  she  intended  to  absent  herself  from  her  family 
duties ;  and  that  he  did  not  believe  the  Almighty  would 
approve  of  her  so  doing."  When  he  resumed  his  seat, 
one  after  another  of  the  Friends  spoke  on  the  subject; 
one  and  all  expressing  deep  sympathy  with  their  much 
tried  Friend  in  her  painful  situation ;  hoping  she  might 
be  strengthened  from  above,  to  yield  herself  to  the 


WOMEN  PREACHERS  FAMILIES. 


85 


requirings  of  duty ;  and  assui'ing  her,  that  it  was  given 
to  them  to  say,  she  would  be  favoured  with  the  in- 
comings of  peace ;  and  that  her  devotedness  to  the 
service  required  of  her,  was  a  proof  that  the  Society 
was  still  a  highly  favom^ed  one.  She  got  her  certifi- 
cate, a  clear  one,  without  any  mention  of  her  hus- 
band's dissent  from  it.  She  travelled  about  in  England 
for  more  than  two  years,  and  was  thought  a  greal  deal 
of  there.  She  entirely  neglected  her  husband  and 
family ;  but  with  our  ministers,  these  minor  duties  are 
always  subordinate  to  the  public  practices  of  their 
calling. 

It  is  a  very  extraordinary  fact,  that  so  m.any  of  the 
preachers  neglect  their  families,  that  the  wildest  and 
I  believe  I  might  say,  the  most  notoriously  irreligious 
young  men  in  the  Society,  are  the  sons  of  preaching 
women. 

The  most  scandalous  deeds  I  have  ever  heard  of 
among  Friends,  or  among  any  people — immorality  in 
its  most  hideous  forms,  licentiousness,  and  dishonour- 
able conduct — are  in  ministers'  families ;  and  provided 
public  attention  is  not  awakened  to  them,  the  sin  is 
covered,  and  the  sinner  walks  erect  among  his  people. 
But  if  the  ofi^ence  become  known,  then  indeed  the 
offender  is  disowned  by  the  Society,  unless  there  is 
wealth  and  interest  among  the  high  Friends  to  assist 
the  guilty  in  escaping.  I  have  known  more  than  one 
instance  where  the  delinquent  did  not  wish  to  be  dis- 
owned, and  to  avoid  it,  put  on  a  plainer  garb,  and  a 
broader  brim  than  ever ;  and  thus,  backed  by  his 
8 


86 


POOR  COMMITTEE. 


mother's  influence,  not  only  escaped  censure,  but 
actually  rose  very  high  in  the  estimation  of  our  wor- 
thies. 

The  only  office  my  mother  could  be  prevailed  on  to 
accept  in  our  Meeting,  was  that  of  being  on  the  Com- 
mittee for  the  poor.  A  small  subscription  was  made 
at  each  Monthly  Meeting,  for  the  support  of  the  few 
poor  Friends  who  belonged  to  us.  Adjoining  our 
Meeting-house,  was  the  Friends'  poor-house,  in  which 
five  women  had  each  a  good  room,  comfortably  fur- 
nished ;  they  were  allowed  a  small  supply  of  coals 
and  candles,  and  three  pence  half-penny  a  day,  to 
find  themselves  in  food.  Clothing  was  generally 
given  by  one  or  another  of  the  Friends,  independent 
of  the  allowance  from  the  Meeting  Fund.  I  often  ac- 
companied my  mother  in  her  visits  to  these  poor  wo- 
men, and  often  went  of  messages  from  her  to  them. 
They  complained  sadly  of  the  small  pittance.  And  at 
last,  my  mother  resolved  to  speak  on  their  behalf  in 
the  Meeting.  It  was  the  only  time  I  ever  heard  her  ^: 
speak  there ;  and  then  she  just  said,  she  hoped  the 
allowance  would  be  raised  to  sixpence,  as  it  was  not 
creditable  to  the  Meeting,  or  right,  she  thought,  that 
the  very  few  poor  they  had  to  maintain,  should  have 
their  wants  so  badly  supplied.  When  she  resumed 
her  seat,  about  half  a  dozen  rose,  one  after  another — 
fine,  fat,  well-fed  women — to  object  to  any  increase. 
One  said,  she  "had  already  calculated,  and  was  quite 
satisfied  the  allowance  made  was  ample."  Another, 
that  ''she  would  not  object,  but  that  it  would  be  a 


POOR  COMMITTEE. 


87 


precedent,  which  it  might  not  suit  the  Meeting  to  fol- 
low at  all  times."  And  one  saucy  creature,  who  has 
since  joined  the  White  Quakers,  said — ''I  feel  called 
on  to  saj,  to  the  Friend  who  has  thought  fit  to  make 
this  strange  proposal — go  thou,  and  sweep  before  thy 
own  door,  but  meddle  not  with  those  hallowed  things 
which  thou  understandest  not."  The  poor  women 
were  present  during  this  scene ;  and  on  our  next  visit, 
expressed  great  regret  at  having  asked  her  interfer- 
ence, as  it  had  subjected  her  to  insult  on  their  behalf. 
They  were  all  very  grateful  to  her,  she  gave  them 
liberty  to  come  walk  in  our  shrubberies  whenever  they 
pleased ;  they  often  availed  themselves  of  the  permis- 
sion, and  returned  home,  laden  with  meat,  tea,  eggs, 
and  such  like  comforts. 

I  never  knew  or  heard  of  a  poor  man  Friend.  As 
poverty  generally  results  from  some  imprudence,  I 
think  the  burden  is  got  rid  of,  by  testifying  against 
that  imprudence,  and  disowning  the  individual.  Seve- 
ral cases  occurred  to  my  knowledge,  which  we,  who 
ventured  to  think  and  speak  too,  thought  very  sus- 
picious. Certainly,  the  circumstances  under  which 
they  were  disowned,  were  far  more  the  result  of 
chance,  or  the  conduct  of  others,  than  any  sinful  de- 
signs on  their  own  part ;  and  were  but  trifles  light  as 
air,  in  comparison  of  the  deeds  of  others  who  still 
hold  the  first  places. 

The  committee  for  examining  into  the  management 
of  the  Provincial  Schools,  is  held  at  the  time  of  the 
Quarterly  Meeting ;  and  in  that  Meeting,  a  dozen  or 


88  PROVINCIAL  SCHOOLS. 

more  Friends  are  appointed  to  examine  the  children 
in  their  studies,  as  well  as  to  see  to  the  general  ar- 
rangement of  the  establishment. 

On  one  of  these  occasions,  my  sister  was  appointed, 
and  went  with  the  others.  A  class  of  about  ten  girls 
was  given  her.  The  examination  of  their  advance- 
ment in  secular  learning  was  quite  satisfactory  to  her. 
Then  she  asked  them  questions  on  religion.  They 
could  repeat  the  words  of  their  catechism,  but  were 
ignorant  of  the  meaning.  She  tried  them  with  the 
simplest  questions,  such  as  she  was  in  the  habit  of 
putting  to  the  children  at  the  Infant  School,  but  in 
vain;  they  knew  nothing.  At  last  she  said,  "Well, 
let  me  hear  you  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer."  One 
only  out  of  the  ten  could  do  it,  and  she  had  only  been 
one  month  at  the  school.  As  she  said  herself,  "  she 
had  not  had  time  to  forget  it."  My  sister  then  tried 
had  they  been  well  instructed  in  the  history  of  Quaker- 
ism, and  asked  them  who  was  the  first  Friend  ?  They 
all  replied  together,  "  Our  Master."  It  is  customary 
when  the  examination  is  ended,  for  all  the  visitors  to 
sign  a  paper  for  the  next  Meeting,  stating  how  they 
found  the  school  affairs,  and  that  they  were  satisfied, 
at  the  instruction  given.  My  sister  refused  to  sign 
it,  because  she  was  not  satisfied  at  all,  that  the  most 
important  part  of  all  education — religion,  had  been 
so  neglected.  The  others  ur^ed  and  entreated  her  to 
sign  it,  and  said,  such  a  thing  was  never  known  as  for 
any  one  to  object  to  the  management  in  all  points  of 
the  very  consistent  Friends  who  had  the  care  of  the 


FALSE  ACCUSATION. 


89 


school.  It  was  in  vain,  she  would  not  sign  it  for  them. 
So  that  in  the  report  for  the  Meeting,  they  were 
obliged  to  leave  out  the  word  unanimous,  which  was 
always  hitherto  inserted. 

There  is  a  catechism  published  for  the  use  of  these 
schools,  which  has  been  approved  of  by  the  Society. 
It  is  the  production  of  Richard  Allen,  a  minister  ;  and 
in  it  I  find  this  question  and  answer,  embodied  in 
many  words — "  Is  the  sacrifice  of  our  Lord  on  the 
cross,  sufficient  to  insure  our  acceptance  with  God?" 
Answer,  "No."  Such  is  the  teaching  given  at  Pro- 
vincial Schools.  No  wonder  the  pupils  so  often  turn 
out  as  they  do.  No  wonder  that  the  Leinster  Pro- 
vincial School,  where  the  vilest  sin  was  practiced,  was 
at  last  obliged  to  be  given  up,  and  its  hypocritical 
master  obliged  to  fly  the  country.  No  wonder  that 
the  scores  of  young  Friends  educated  there  should 
prove  irreligious ;  and,  as  some  of  them  to  my  own 
knowledge,  are  infidels. 

One  morning,  we  were  greatly  startled  and  annoyed, 
by  two  constables  coming  to  our  house  with  a  warrant 
to  arrest  my  brother,  on  a  charge  which  had  been 
sworn  against  him,  of  shooting  at  a  woman  with  intent 
to  kill.  We  were  seated  at  the  breakfast  table,  when 
the  men  came  in,  and  very  civilly,  though  firmly, 
told  their  business.  "  George,"  said  my  father,  "  how 
is  this?  Explain  it."  "Father,"  he  replied,  "I 
cannot  explain  it,  for  I  know^  nothing  about  it."  They 
went  together  to  the  magistrate,  who,  knowing  our. 
family  so  well,  consented  at  last  to  take  a  very  large 
8* 


90 


FALSE  ACCUSATION. 


bail.  My  brother  was  in  the  habit  of  riding  to  his 
farm  every  morning,  and  returning  late  in  the  even- 
ing. He  had  a  large  dairy,  and  had  sold  the  produce 
of  it  to  Anty  Keene,  a  farmer's  daughter,  who  again 
retailed  it  in  the  town.  This  Anty  Keene  had  been 
some  twenty  pounds  in  my  brother's  debt,  and  he  re- 
fused to  give  her  further  credit,  and  was  about  con- 
tracting with  another  woman,  who  was  a  rival  in  the 
trade  with  Anty.  Oh  !  how  anxiously  we  waited  for 
the  day  when  the  trial  should  come  on.  George  was 
the  only  one  of  the  family  who  looked  calm  or  happy, 
his  spirits  never  failed  him.  Anty  Keene  swore,  that 
on  a  certain  evening,  Mr.  George  had  been  riding  home 
from  his  farm ;  that  he  was  dressed  in  a  large  white 
over-coat,  and  mounted  on  a  black  mare  with  a  long 
tail ;  that  a  little  terrier  dog  ran  beside  him ;  that 
when  he  came  to  the  old  turnpike  gate,  he  overtook 
her ;  that  he  rode  beside  her  for  some  distance,  de- 
manding his  money ;  that  she  begged  and  prayed  him 
to  allow  her  time,  and  that  she  would  pay  him  all 
fairly ;  that  he  got  into  a  passion,  and  said,  he  would 
shoot  her  on  the  spot  if  she  did  not  pay  him  at  once ; 
that  she  became  frightened,  and  ran  away,  and  that 
then  he  fired  at  her  with  a  pistol  which  he  drew  from 
his  breast,  and  that  the  shots  had  gone  through  the 
hood  of  the  blue  cloth  cloak  she  wore.  She  produced 
the  cloak  with  six  holes,  which  were  very  like  shot 
holes.  She  had  one  witness,  a  man,  who  swore  that 
he  was  on  the  road  at  the  time,  and  hearing  the  gen- 
tleman talking  angrily,  he  had  hid  himself  in  the 


FALSE  ACCrSATIOX. 


91 


ditch,  to  listen  and  watch.  He  also  swore  to  the  horse 
and  the  coat,  and  the  dog,  and  the  pistols ;  and  that 
he  saw  the  shot  fired,  and  the  gentleman  then  put 
spurs  to  his  horse,  and  galloped  away ;  and  he  then 
ran  up  to  the  poor  frightened  woman,  and  saw  the 
holes  made  by  the  shots  quite  close  to  her  forehead. 
This  was  the  charge,  and  unless  he  could  clear  him- 
self of  it,  the  punishment  was  transportation  for  life. 
He  confessed  that  it  was  true  he  had  been  on  the  road 
at  the  time  stated;  the  horse,  the  coat,  the  dog — all 
that  was  true;  he  had  a  brace  of  pistols-in  his  breast- 
pocket, but  all  the  rest  he  denied ;  he  had  seen  a 
woman  on  the  road,  but  he  did  not  speak  to  her,  or 
know  who  it  was.  He  had  no  witness  to  c^ll ;  he  ac- 
knowledged having  refused  to  give  Anty  fui'ther 
credit ;  and  also,  that  he  had  said  she  would  be  sorry 
for  her  dishonesty,  by  which  he  meant,  that  her  rival 
would  get  the  town  business.  The  general  impres- 
sion on  hearing  all  that  could  be  said  on  both  sides, 
was,  that  George  was  guilty.  Many  of  the  gentle- 
men present,  went  over  to  my  father,  when  the  first 
day's  investigation  was  over,  and  expressed  great 
feeling  for  him.  He  thanked  them,  but  said — "  I  am 
happy  in  the  behef  that  my  son  is  innocent  of  the 
crime  laid  to  his  charge."  They  did  not  think  so. 
The  lawyers  said  it  was  a  bad  business,  and  advised 
George  to  compromise  it  with  Anty ;  who  they  had 
private  reasons  to  know,  would  accept  of  fifty  pounds, 
and  drop  the  prosecution.  He  indignantly  refused. 
That  night  few  of  us  could  sleep  ;  the  sworn  evidence 


92  FALSE  ACCUSATION, 

against  our  darling  brother  was  so  strong,  so  incon- 
trovertible. My  father  did  not  tell  us  so,  but  we  all 
knew  that  he  spent  the  night  in  prayer.  It  was  an 
agonizing  thought,  that  his  own  dear  son,  than  whom, 
a  more  kind,  gentle,  generous  and  upright  man,  never 
lived,  should  be  transported  like  a  felon.  He  cast  his 
care  upon  his  God,  and  found  Him  strong  to  save. 

On  cross-questioning  the  man  witness,  at  the  final 
hearing,  he  was  observed  to  tremble  violently;  and 
then,  most  unexpectedly,  he  declared,  that  what  he 
and  Anty  had  sworn  to,  was  all  false ;  that  she  had 
burnt  the  holes  in  her  cloak  with  a  knitting  needle, 
while  te  was  standing  by  her ;  that  she  gave  him  ten 
shillings  to  be  her  false  witness  ;  that  he  and  she  were 
on  the  road  together,  and  saw  Mr.  George  pass  by, 
but  had  not  spoken  to  him  at  all ;  but  on  that  night 
they  planned  the  accusation  to  revenge  Anty  about 
the  dairy.  When  asked,  why  he  now  confessed  the 
truth?  he  said,  "the  devil  had  come  to  him  in  the 
night,  and  said,  '  Ah !  I  have  you  now — you  have  per- 
jured your  soul — come  off — I  have  a  fine  hot  hell 
ready  for  you.'  And  that  he  was  so  much  frightened, 
he  could  not  help  telling,  as  if  others  knew  it,  it  would 
not  feel  so  heavy  on  himself." 

My  brother  was  acquitted  and  Anty,  prosecuted  by 
the  crown  for  perjury,  was  imprisoned  for  two  years. 
And  when  that  was  over,  her  relations  sent  her  to 
America ;  they  were  ashamed,  they  said,  to  hold  up 
their  heads  while  she  was  in  the  country. 


• 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


98 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Friend  Flannil,  the  American  Minister — Funeral  Sermon  at  the 
Grave — Sudden  Death — Gresham's  Hotel — Escape  from  a  Knave 
— Family  Visit — Dress — Visits  from  the  Overseers  about  Drawing 
— French — Similarity  of  Popery  and  Quakerism. 

Ix  October,  1827,  we  were  sitting  one  evening 
around  the  fire,  when  two  young  men  of  our  Meeting 
walked  in.  They  came  to  ask  could  we  accommodate 
the  American  Friend,  James  Plannil,  and  his  travel- 
ing companion,  an  English  minister,  with  bed  and 
board  for  a  week  or  two,  as  they  proposed  not  only  to 
attend  the  Quarterly  Meeting,  but  also  to  visit  fami- 
lies. Ours  was  not  the  usual  house  for  travelling 
Friends  to  come  to.  We  were  not  plain  enough  to 
have  that  honour  in  general,  at  least,  not  while  an- 
other house  where  the  fare  was  equally  good,  and  the 
dress  of  the  family  more  consistent,  was  to  be  had. 
On  the  present  occasion,  something  had  occurred  to 
render  Friend  Flannil's  visit  inconvenient  to  others, 
and  a  deputation  had  been  sent  to  try  what  could  be 
done  at  our  house.  My  father  immediately  agreed  to 
receive  both  the  Friends ;  we  were  quite  delighted,  and 
promised  to  look  sober  and  plain.  The  necessary 
preparations  were  made ;  a  double  bedded  room  was 
got  ready ;  an  abundant  marketing  sent  home,  and  a 


94 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


plentiful  supply  of  pastries,  jellies,  and  all  such  crea- 
ture comforts  laid  in.  We  had  several  other  Friends 
on  a  visit  with  us,  and  several  had  come  to  spend  the 
day  with  us,  when  about  three  o'clock  on  seventh  day, 
we  saw  a  post  chaise  drive  up  the  lawn.  We  all  ran  to 
the  windows,  exclaiming — "Here  comes  the  Ameri- 
can." ''Oh!  no,"  said  one,  "it  cannot  be,  the  chaise 
is  empty;  look,  the  windows  are  all  blinded."  So  it 
was,  all  shut  up — the  glass  panes  down  and  the  blinds 
up  ;  yet  it  drove  to  the  door ;  the  steps  were  let  down, 
and  out  crawled  an  enormously  large  man.  He  was 
followed  by  a  nice  looking  little  elderly  Friend  with 
a  black  velvet  cap  on  the  top  of  his  head.  And  after 
him,  stepped  out  a  slight  young  man,  the  guide  from 
Youghal  Meeting,  who  merely  saw  the  other  two  safe 
into  the  house,  and  then  stepped  back  into  the  chaise, 
opened  the  windows,  and  drove  off. 

I  must  describe  Friend  Flannil.  He  was  six  feet 
four  inches  high,  large  boned,  and  coarse  looking  in 
the  extreme.  A  great  shapeless  white  cloth  coat, 
lined  with  light  green,  covered  him  all  over.  His 
feet  were  enveloped  in  huge  moccason  boots,  and  his 
countenance  was  indicative,  in  a  remarkable  manner, 
of  crossness  and  discontent.  His  companion,  Isaac 
Haldwell,  was  a  plain  Friend,  and  a  preacher  also; 
a  most  gentlemanly  looking  person,  and  prepossessed 
us  very  much  by  the  quiet  smile  of  drollery,  with 
which  he  watched  the  impression  made  on  us  by  the 
uncouth  figure  of  the  American.  When  the  baggage 
was  settled,  and  Friends  seated  in  the  parlour.  Friend 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


95 


Haldwell  remarked,  how  pleasant  it  was  to  look  about 
him.  He  walked  to  the  window,  and  seemed  so  un- 
commonly pleased  at  gazing  on  the  faded  glories  of 
October  in  the  country,  that  we  asked  him  how  it 
happened,  he  had  arrived  with  closed  blinds.  ''Why," 
said  he,  "  that  is  the  very  reason  I  enjoy  every  thing 
so  much  now.  It  was  not  very  pleasant  travelling  so 
far  in  the  dark;  and  through  Lismore,  too,  that  I 
wished  so  much  to  see,  and  the  Blackwater — I  was 
really  vexed;  but" — and  he  looked  round  with  a  com- 
ical smile — "Ae  would  not  let  the  glasses  be  up." 
Somebody  in  Cork  unfortunately  asked  him,  how  he 
liked  Ireland?  to  which  he  replied,  "I  did  not  come 
from  America  to  see  the  country."  The  same  ques- 
tion was  put  to  him  in  Youghal,  very  natui'ally,  by 
another  Friend.  It  made  him  angry,  and  he  said, 
''he  did  not  look  at  the  country,  nor  he  would  not 
look  at  it ;  it  was  not  worth  looking  at,  for  the  trees 
were  no  bigger  than  American  bushes;  and  he  did 
not  like  to  see  so  many  houses,  and  no  woods.'* 
Therefore  he  had  compelled  his  two  unfortunate  fel- 
low-travellers to  drive  all  that  long  way  without  a 
glimpse  of  light.  Friend  Haldwell  whispered — "  He 
does  many  queer  things ;  but  he  is  a  great  minister, 
and  we  must  overlook  his  little  peculiarities." 

A  smothered  laugh  induced  the  speakers  to  look 
round.  Friend  Flannil  had  drawn  his  chair  close  to 
the  fire ;  he  had  taken  off  his  moccasons,  and  the  view 
of  his  very  tattered  dirty  stockings,  accounted  for  the 
laugh.    We  all  became  silent^  watching  what  he  was 


96 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


going  to  do.  The  trowsers  were  drawn  up  to  the 
knees,  (there  were  several  ladies  in  the  room,  our 
usual  Quarterly  Meeting  guests,)  a  curious  garter, 
made  of  the  bark  of  a  tree  and  twine,  was  thrown 
down  on  the  rug,  and  the  stockings  deliberately  taken 
off,  exhibiting  to  our  wondering  eyes,  two  of  the  very 
dirtiest  and  biggest  feet  I  had  ever  beheld.  Friend 
Flannil,  perfectly  regardless  of  the  presence  of  any 
one,  held  up  his  feet  alternately  to  the  fire,  warming 
and  rubbing  them,  and  grumbling  that  the  fire  was 
not  good,  because  it  was  made  of  coal,  instead  of  wood, 
as  he  said  it  ought  to  be.  When  the  feet  were  warmed 
and  rubbed  enough,  he  began  to  look  about  him,  and 
to  talk.  "Do  you  call  this  living  in  the  country? 
I  am  sure  I  don't."  Then  to  my  father — Art  thou 
married?  Are  these  all  thy  children?"  "Oh!  no," 
he  replied;  (some  of  the  company  were  as  old,  and 
older  than  himself;)  "these  young  ones  here  are 
mine."  "Eugh,"  said  Friend  Flannil,  "they  are 
very  puny.  I  have  three  sons,  and  the  lowest  of  them 
is  six  feet  three;  I  guess  thou  can't  match  that."  An 
irrepressible  laugh  ran  round  the  room,  and  poor 
papa  looked  miserable,  fearing  the  stranger  would  be 
offended;  but  Friend  Haldwell  whispered,  "Do  not 
be  uneasy ;  he  will  never  imagine  it  possible  any  one 
Avould  laugh  at  him." 

Dinner  being  announced,  a  considerable  delay  took 
place  putting  on  the  old  stockings,  &c.,  &c.  He  was 
invited  to  go  into  another  room  to  wash  his  hands ; 
but  positively  refused.  "What  shall  we  do  with  him  ?'" 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


97 


asked  my  mother  of  Friend  Hal  dwell.  "  Really,"  said 
he,  ''I  do  not  know;  but  do  what  thou  wilt,  he  never 
thinks  of  taking  offence."    She  then  ordered  a  basin 
of  Avater,  &c.  into  the  room  before  us  all,  and  said 
to  him — "Dinner  is  waiting,  and  thy  hands  must  be 
washed — pray  be  quick."    "Eugh,"  said  he,  "how 
mighty  particular  thou  art."  However,  the  ablutions 
were  performed  in  a  kind  of  way,  and  then  he  was 
requested  to  walk  into  the  dining  room.  He  sat  still, 
and  looked  about,  and  seeing  the  butler  standing  at 
the  door,  he  called  out — "Here,  thee!  man,  bring  in 
the  dinner  then,  can't  thee,  if  it  is  ready."    With  a 
great  deal  of  difficulty  he  was  induced  to  go  into  the 
dining-room,  which  at  last  he  did,  by  running  past 
every  one.    He  was  placed  at  my  mother's  left  hand 
at  table,  and  the  rest  of  us,  twenty-two  in  number, 
took  our  places.   Scarce  were  we  seated,  when  Friend 
Flannil's  tall,  awkward  form  rose;  he  grasped  the 
salt  cellar,  stretched  it  half  way  down  the  table,  and 
threw  it  all  about.    He  said,  "I  hate  them  buckets  of 
salt.    Mother,  never  put  one  near  me  again;  mind, 
I  hate  salt."  He  occasionally  used  his  knife  and  fork, 
but  much  more  frequently,  his  fingers.  He  called  for 
coffee,  which  not  being  ready,  he  said,  "Go,  get  it; 
I'll  wait  for  it;"  and  he  went  over  to  the  fire  until  it 
w^as  prepared.    Then  he  came  back  to  his  seat,  and 
ate  fish  in  his  fingers,  and  drank  coffee,  scolding,  and 
growling  incessantly,  and  ordering  "the  Mother"  to 
go  get  him  one  thing  or  another. 

After  dinner,  Jane  Dalton  came  in,  to  pay  her  re- 
9 


98 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


spects  to  the  American  Friend,  and  to  invite  him  lo 
dine  with  her  mother  on  first  day.  She  approached 
him  almost  with  reverence,  as  a  superior  being.  She 
said,  ^'  My  mother,  Mary  Dalton — thou  hast  proba- 
bly heard  her  name — sent  me  to  see  thee,  and  to  in- 
vite thee  to  dine  with  us  to-morrow,  between  Meet- 
ings. She  would  wish  to  become  acquainted  with 
thee."  "Eugh,"  said  Friend  Flannil.  "I  don't  know 
her,  or  thee  either ;  nor  I  don't  want  to  know  her ; 
and  thee  may  go  back,  and  tell  her  that ;  and  I'll 
not  go  dine  with  her;  I'll  stay  with  'the  Mother.' 
Thee  may  go."  Poor  Jane! — such  a  rebuff — from 
the  American  Friend  too, — so  many  present — the  ill 
concealed  laughter — the  gaping,  grinning  servants — 
my  father's  look  of  agony ;  for  he  was  pained  to  the 
heart,  to  see  "an  inspired  minister"  so  rude  to  a  fe- 
male. It  was  a  most  amusing  scene ;  and  was  ended 
by  my  mother  most  peremptorily  desiring  Friend 
Flannil  to  speak  politely;  that  Friends  in  Ireland 
must  be  treated  courteously.  He  tried  to  run  out  of 
the  room ;  but  she  insisted  that  he  should  sit  down, 
and  listen  to  her.  She  told  him  it  was  very  kind 
of  Jane  to  ask  him,  and  that  he  must  accept  her  in- 
vitation. "Well,"  said  he,  "I  will,  if  thou  bids 
me." 

The  evening  wore  away ;  he  called  for  meat  at  tea, 
and  ate  slice  after  slice  of  cold  roast  beef  in  his  fin- 
gers, as  another  person  would  bread  and  butter ;  and 
when  going  to  bed,  said  he  must  have  something  to 
eat  in  the  night.    He  ordered  the  parlour  fire  to  be 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


99 


kept  lighted,  and  a  tray  with  bread  and  cheese,  and 
porter,  to  be  left  for  him.  After  laughing  more  than 
we  ever  laughed  in  one  day  before,  we  all  retired. 
About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  whole  house 
was  alarmed.  We  started  up  in  our  beds,  and  listen- 
ed; fui-niture  seemed  thrown  about,  and  at  last 
screams  were  heard  from  the  servants'  rooms.  My 
father  took  a  light,  and  went  down  stairs,  agitated 
and  anxious.  The  cause  of  the  disturbance  was  soon 
discovered.  Friend  Flannil  unclad,  had  gone  from 
his  room  in  quest  of  the  bread  and  cheese ;  he  had 
lost  his  way  in  the  dark,  and  wandered  into  the  ser- 
vant maids'  apartment.  They  were  frightened  at  the 
great  tall  white  form.  It  was  a  moonlight  night. 
They  never  imagined  who  it  was,  but  thought  it  was  a 
ghost,  and  screamed  with  terror.  He,  finding  his 
mistake,  threw  down  a  chair  in  his  hurry  to  be  off, 
and  then  rushed  into  another  room,  rousing  the 
sleepers  there  too,  and  then  down  another  stairs, 
throwing  about  candlesticks,  and  every  thing  he  hap- 
pened to  meet  with.  With  difficulty  he  was  got  back 
to  his  bed,  and  we  finished  our  sleep. 

The  following  morning  Friend  Haldwell  looked 
pale,  and  worn,  and  wan,  and  confessed  to  having  had 
a  wretched  night.  Friend  Flannil  had  disturbed  him 
so  often,  that  he  said,  "he  was  quite  tired  of  the  duty 
he  had  undertaken." 

The  American  disdained  to  use  a  spoon  eating  eggs  ; 
and  altogether  his  manners  were  so  revolting,  that  it 
was  unanimously  determined  henceforth  he  should 


100 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


take  his  meals  at  a  table  by  himself,  my  mother  per- 
suading him  that  it  was  her  Irish  manner  of  especially 
honouring  an  American  guest. 

We  all  went  to  Meeting,  and  there  Friend  Flannil 
astonished  all  the  assembly  with  his  sermon.  After 
the  usual  long  pause  of  a  Friends'  Meeting,  his  huge 
gaunt  form  was  seen  to  rise  in  the  gallery,  and  to 
shake  itself.  Then  the  queer  hat  was  taken  off,  and 
laid  on  the  ground,  the  coat  unbuttoned,  and  he  began 
in  a  voice  loud  and  gruff.  "  There  was  once  an  old 
horse,  and  he  had  a  sore  leg."  This  strange  text 
drew  all  eyes  on  the  man.  He  enlarged  for  nearly 
an  hour  on  it,  with  great  volubility ;  described  the 
appearances  as  only  one  could  have  done  who  had 
witnessed  the  symptoms  and  treatment  of  veterinary 
disease ;  and  drew  a  kind  of  moral  from  it ;  that  we 
were  all  as  diseased  as  the  old  horse,  as  disgusting  as 
the  horrid  picture  he  had  drawn,  and  that  Quaker- 
ism was  the  only  cure.  Of  course  many  comments 
were  made  on  such  a  sermon  as  this,  although 
Friends  are  often  told  it  is  very  wrong  to  make  any 
remark  on  addresses  which  are  considered  to  proceed 
from  "  immediate  inspiration but  this  induced  many 
to  disregard  the  general  rule.  One  said,  "  it  was  a 
wonderfully  deep  discourse."  Another,  "that  it  con- 
tained a  deal  of  hidden  meaning."  Another,  "that 
we  must  be  as  far  advanced  ourselves  in  Christian 
experience  to  be  able  to  understand  it."  Another, 
''that  it  was  scandalous  to  hear  such  language  in  a 
place  of  worship."    And  another,  "for  my  part,  I 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


101 


think  the  man  is  mad."  I  believe  very  many  agreed 
in  this  last  opinion,  but  were  timid  of  saying  so. 

After  Meeting,  he  went  to  dine  with  Mary  Dalton ; 
and  we  had  a  very  large  company  dining  with  us,  and 
were  amusing  ourselves  talking  of,  and  laughing  at 
the  strange  American  minister.  Whilst  we  were  in 
the  middle  of  dinner,  however,  in  walked  Flannil, 
with  great  coat  and  hat  on.  We  asked  him,  "was 
any  thing  the  matter,  that  he  had  left  Mary  Dalton's 
so  soon?"  He  said,  "Yes;  I  don't  like  her,  she  is 
so  fat,  and  her  house  has  a  wall  opposite  to  it,  and  I 
like  to  see  something  green."  We  asked  had  he  dined? 
"Yes;  I  eat  a  bit,  and  then  I  came  away."  "Did 
Mary  Dalton  know  he  was  going  away  ?"  "No  ;  she 
looked  so  fat,  I  only  said  I  was  going  out  for  a  mi- 
nute." "But  that  was  rude."  "Well,  I  don't  care." 
Presently  after,  came  a  young  man  up  the  lawn, 
looking  after  him.  He  told  us  that  Flannil  had 
snatched  the  leg  of  a  turkey  up  in  his  fingers,  and 
gobbled  it  up,  before  any  one  at  the  table  was  helped, 
and  then  ran  out  of  the  house,  actually  frightening 
the  good  Friends. 

The  next  day  at  dinner  we  had  another  scene.  He 
was,  as  usual,  placed  at  a  small  side  table,  by  him- 
self, but  near  my  mother.  We  were  all  eating,  and 
enjoying  ourselves,  when  suddenly  he  exclaimed  in  a 
loud  unearthly  voice,  that  made  the  knives  and  forks 
drop  out  of  our  hands — "  Something  is  going  to  hap- 
pen." Poor  mamma  turned  pale;  the  servants  stood 
aghast,  and  wonder  sat  on  each  countenance.  We 
9* 


102 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


asked — "What,  what  is  the  matter?"  He  slowly  re- 
plied— "  Something  dreadful — oh  !  dreadful !"  After 
what  seemed  a  long  time  of  painful  suspense,  he  said, 
"  I  feel  all  down  my  leg  and  foot,  like  pins  and  nee- 
dles pricking  me."  "  Oh  !"  said  one  of  my  brothers, 
"the  man's  foot  is  asleep — that's  all."  And  such  a 
fit  of  laughter  followed,  as  was,  I  am  very  sure,  ne- 
ver before  heard  at  a  Quarterly  Meeting  dinner  party ; 
even  poor  papa  laughed  in  spite  of  himself,  and  never 
from  that  day  out,  even  tried  to  persuade  us  to  re- 
spect this  man,  who  was  sent  from  America  with  the 
sanction  and  approval,  by  letters  and  epistles,  of 
three  Yearly  Meetings  there,  to  preach  in  this  country 
as  an  inspired  minister  of  the  Christian  religion — 
who  was  forwarded  to  Ireland  from  England,  with 
the  full  approbation  of  the  English  Meetings ;  and 
again  sent  from  Dublin  doAvn  to  the  South,  as  some- 
thing far  more  holy  than  common. 

In  the  evenings  he  would  lie  on  the  sofa,  full  length, 
and  scold  any  one  who  came  near  him ;  calling  old 
ladies,  "child,"  bidding  them  "get  away" — "young 
woman,  thy  breath  is  not  sweet,"  to  one;  and  when 
tea  was  handed  round,  he  addressed  one  nice  English 
Friend  with — "Here  thee,  go  get  me  some  meat." 
She  went,  and  brought  him  some  slices  of  cold  meat.  4 
He  turned  them  over  and  over  again,  with  his  fingers, 
dashed  his  tea  awkwardly  over  her  nice  silk  dress, 
and  then  scolded  her  heartily,  and  greased  her  with 
his  handa  in  the  most  outrageously  rude  manner. 
And  yet  the  plain  Friends,  many  of  whom  were  pre- 


FRIEND  FLANXIL. 


103 


sent  still  looked  on  him  as  a  holy  man,  and  coveted 
a  Tvord,  even  a  cross  word,  from  him.    It  would  weary 
to  tell  all  his  extravagancies,  his  dirtiness,  his  profa- 
nation of  religion ;  yet  to  this  man,  and  the  conversa- 
tions relative  to  him,  I  am  deeply  indebted ;  for  it 
was  these  scenes  that  first  opened  my  eyes  to  the  false 
pretentions  of  Quakerism.    It  was  seeing  such  a  man 
honored — a  man  who  seemed  not  to  possess  one  re- 
deeming trait  of  virtue  or  amiability — who  was  en- 
tirely ignorant  of  the  Scriptures — who  was  as  ignorant 
as  he  was  selfish,  and  as  selfish  as  he  was  knavish  and 
cunning ;  it  was  seeing  such  a  disgrace  to  the  name 
of  Christianity  honored,  and  almost  reverenced,  by 
the  whole  body  of  Friends  in  America,  England,  and 
Ireland;  it  was  seeing  this,  that  first  inclined  me  to 
think  it  possible  that  Friends  might  be  in  error,  and 
conviction  that  they  were  mistaken  in  one  point, 
gi'adually  opened  the  way  to  look  at  others,  until  at 
length,  and  not  without  thought,  and  prayer,  and  re- 
search, and  years  of  careful  study,  I  am  now  clearly 
of  opinion,  that  Quakerism  is  not  what  it  professes  to 
be — a  pm'e  form  of  Christianity ;  but  a  deep  and  subtle 
delusion ;  where  some  truth  is  mixed  up  with  great 
error — where  the  most  soul-deluding  doctrines  are 
clothed  in  the  garment  of  superior  sanctity — where 
imagination   is  substituted   for   inspiration — where 
spiritual  pride  assumes  the  form  of  mock  humility,  w 
and  external  forms  take  the  place  of  dedication  of 
heart — where  the  ignorant  and  the  hypocritical  take 
the  lead,  and  where  the  substance,  the  life  of  religion 


104 


FRIEND  FLANNIL. 


— faith  in  the  blood  of  J esus  Christ,  is  never  mention- 
ed ;  at  least  I  can  say,  after  being  for  forty  years  a 
Quakeress,  and  hearing  all  the  best  preachers  the  So- 
ciety produces,  I  never  heard  in  Meetings,  either  for 
worship  or  discipline,  "  that  salvation  was  to  be  ob- 
tained only  through  that  precious  blood." 

At  my  father's  suggestion.  Friend  Flannil  was  sent 
back  to  his  congenial  woods,  without  finishing  his  in- 
tended visitings ;  but  not  before  one  of  our  wealthy 
spinsters  had  testified  against  such  an  unusual  quench- 
ing of  the  Spirit,  by  settling  on  him  an  annuity  of 
fifty  pounds  per  annum. 

Friend  Flannil's  text  was  indeed  a  very  extraordi- 
nary one ;  but  quite  as  strange  as  his,  have  been  the 
texts  chosen  by  some  of  our  own  countrymen.  Dublin 
Meeting  once  beheld  a  venerable  patriarchal  old  man, 
whose  white  shining  locks  fell  on  his  shoulders,  rise  in 
the  preachers'  gallery,  and  thus  commence :  Good 
morrow  morning,  my  fine,  first  day  morning  gallery 
bucks  ;  what  brings  you  here  to-day  ?  A  light  heart 
and  a  thin  pair  of  breeches,  will  carry  you  through, 
my  brave  boys." 

And  another  time,  a  tall  portly  man,  in  the  same 
place,  after  slowly  rising,  and  slowly  taking  ofi"  his 
broad  brim,  and  slowly  laying  it  down  on  the  ground 
beside  him,  in  the  same  slow  way  took  ofi"  his  great 
coat,  folded  it  up,  and  laying  it  down  beside  the  hat, 
addressed  them  thus:  "Oh!  my  dear  friends,  I  have 
a  great  concern  on  my  mind,  that  you  should  take  off 
your  sins,  and  lay  them  down,  as  I  have  done  my  hat 
and  coat." 


FUNERAL. 


105 


One  of  our  preachers  having  died,  we,  as  usual, 
attended  the  funeral.  Friends'  funerals  in  Ireland 
are  conducted  with  great  quietness  and  solemnity — 
much  more  so,  I  think,  than  in  England.  On  this 
occasion,  the  day  after  we  heard  of  the  Friend's  death, 
as  she  was  one  for  whom  we  all  felt  much  respect,  we 
went  to  the  house,  and  sat  in  silence  with  the  bereaved 
family  for  about  half  an  hour.  Then  we  were  invited 
up  stairs  to  see  the  pallid  form.  One  of  her  daugh- 
ters told  us  of  her  affection  and  uprightness,  and  of 
her  great  goodness  and  kindliness  to  the  poor  people 
in  her  neighborhood,  and  that  she  had  always  some 
work  for  them  on  her  hands.  But  she  did  not  tell, 
that  which  I  was  greatly  wishing  to  know,  whether 
she  died  in  a  happy  assurance  of  pardon,  and  with  the 
blessed  hope  of  life  everlasting.  Friends  always  take 
it  for  granted,  that  a  plain  Friend  when  he  dies,  goes 
straight  to  heaven.  I  have  known  many  cases,  in 
which  there  was  cause  for  great  fear  and  anxiety; 
but  I  never  heard  of  a  doubt  being  expressed,  either 
to  the  dying  or  to  the  sui'vivors.  This  was  certainly 
a  good  woman  ;  her  short  sermons  were  always  scrip- 
tui-al.  At  her  funeral,  round  the  grave,  there  were 
many  speeches.  A  large  crowd  of  persons  were  there. 
One  of  those  speeches,  or  sermons,  arrested  my  atten- 
tion and  sui'prised  others  not  a  little.  It  was  Betsey 
Beater  spoke.  She  eulogized  the  departed;  and  said, 
"that  she  had  honored  her  Christian  name;  that  she 
had  always  been  such  a  consistent  Friend ;  that  she 
had  never  indulged  her  daughters  in  the  vain  fashions 


106 


SUDDEN  DEATH. 


of  the  world — no ;  she  had  never  even  allowed  them  to 
wear  silk  gowns." 

Very  soon  after  this,  there  was  an  awfully  sudden 
death  in  my  own  family.  An  aunt  had  remained  up 
later  than  usual  one  night,  regulating  her  house, 
and  then  retired  apparently  in  good  health ;  a  couple 
of  hours  after,  she  was  found  dead  in  her  bed.  Oh ! 
how  I  longed  to  know  had  she  gone  to  heaven  ;  but 
it  was  vain  to  ask.  She  was  a  very  consistent  Friend ; 
that  satisfied  every  one  but  myself.  Many,  many 
years  after,  I  accidentally  heard  of  her  having  been 
a  constant  reader  of  the  Bible. 

My  father  had  some  idea  of  making  one  of  his  sons 
a  manufacturer ;  and  before  deciding  on  it,  he  wrote 
to  some  Friends  in  the  north  of  Ireland  to  make  in- 
quiries. One  Friend,  who  bore  a  very  high  character 
in  the  Society,  amongst  others,  wrote  to  him,  offering 
to  take  the  lad  as  an  apprentice,  on  payment  of  a  fee 
of  =£500.  Instead  of  answering  that  letter,  my 
father  resolved  to  go  himself  to  the  North :  and  to  my 
great  delight,  proposed  to  make  me  the  companion  of 
his  journey.  We  accordingly  set  off  by  the  coach, 
which  we  had  inside  all  to  ourselves,  to  Dublin.  We 
stopped  at  Gresham's  Hotel  for  two  or  three  days, 
attended  the  Dublin  Monthly  Meeting,  which  was 
nothing  but  routine  business ;  and  by  very  urgent  en- 
treaty, we  accompanied  a  Friend  to  his  house  to 
dinner,  that  day.  He  was  a  very  rich  man,  and  had 
both  a  town  and  country  house.  He  had  often  been 
feasted  at  our  home,  and  now  he  sat  us  down  with  a 


gresham's  hotel. 


107 


large  company,  to  eat  potatoes  and  cabbage,  and  fried 
liver,  and  nothing  else.  This  was  the  only  bad  din- 
ner I  ever  met  with  in  an  Irish  Friend's  house ;  there- 
fore I  commemorated  it.  We  took  an  early  leave  of 
the  party,  and  hurried  to  oui'  hotel,  where  we  com- 
forted ourselves  with  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  mutton  chop  ; 
and  took  good  care  to  accept  of  no  more  pressing  in- 
vitations during  our  stay. 

My  father  always  put  up  at  Gresham's  Hotel;  not 
only  because  of  its  being  the  best,  or  one  of  the  best, 
hotels  in  Dublin,  but  because  of  the  exceeding  kind- 
ness which  its  master  had  shown  him  on  the  occasion 
of  King  George  IV. 's  visit  to  Ireland.    My  father 
had  been  one  of  the  Friends  appointed  to  wait  on  the 
King,  and  to  present  him  with  a  congratulatory  address 
from  the  Society.    A  day  was  fixed  for  the  reception, 
and  afterwards  it  was  postponed  for  a  week.    To  pass 
that  period,  my  father  and  sister,  who  accompanied 
him,  planned  a  Yisit  to  Lisbui-n.    They  set  off  in  one 
of  the  northern  coaches,  drawn  by  three  horses ;  and 
when  about  half  the  journey  was  completed,  an  op- 
position coach  overtook  them,  and  a  race  commenced, 
which  terminated  in  the  upset  of  the  one  in  which  my 
father  was.   It  was  a  di'eadful  accident ;  every  one  on, 
and  in  the  coach  were  more  or  less  hurt.    My  sister's 
face  was  sadly  cut  by  the  glass ;  but  she  was  the  least 
hui't  of  the  party.     My  father's  head  was  cut  and 
bruised,  so  that  he  was  thought  dead  for  a  long  time. 
The  outside  passengers  had  some  a  leg,  others  an  arm 
broken.    A  gentleman  who  lived  near,  most  kindly 


108 


gresham's  hotel. 


opened  liis  house  for  the  sufferers.  There  they  had 
soon  the  best  medical  attendance  that  could  be  pro- 
cured, and  every  domestic  care.  As  soon  as  he  was 
at  all  able  to  move,  my  father  retraced  his  way  in  a 
post-chaise  to  Dublin.  He  drove  to  the  Gresham,  and 
was  told  that  the  house  was  full ;  then  to  the  Bilton — 
the  same  answer  met  him  there.  From  one  to  another, 
he  went  in  vain  to  twenty  hotels ;  and  as  night  was 
coming  on,  he  returned  to  the  Gresham,  and  asking 
to  see  the  proprietor,  he  told  his  tale,  and  begged  to 
be  allowed  to  stay  in  the  coffee-room  for  the  night. 
When  Mr.  Gresham  had  heard  him,  and  seen  the  poor 
wounded  invalid  travellers,  he  immediately  brought 
them  into  his  own  private  rooms,  gave  them  all  they 
needed — beds,  and  care,  and  comforts  ;  procured  me- 
dical aid  that  night  for  them ;  and  during  the  week 
they  were  compelled  to  remain,  he  and  his  kind  family 
attended  them  with  indefatigable  hospitality.  Nor 
would  he  accept  any  remuneration  whatever ;  saying, 
they  were  guests  in  his  private  house,  not  customers 
in  his  hotel. 

We  proceeded  to  the  North,  and  called  on  Friends 
Ring,  the  manufacturers.  Father  and  son  constituted 
the  Firm ;  they  were  exceedingly  orthodox  Friends, 
and  invited  us  most  politely  to  their  respective  houses, 
both  large,  good  and  well  furnished.  My  father  spent 
two  long  mornings  making  the  inquiries  he  was  so 
anxious  about,  with  respect  to  his  son.  The  business 
appeared  satisfactory  in  every  way,  and  he  had  no 
fault  to  find  with  the  large  fee  demanded ;  and  yet, 


ESCAPE  FROM  A  KXAYE. 


109 


there  was  something  on  his  mind,  for  which  he  could 
not  account,  that  made  him  hesitate  to  conclude  the 
arrano-ement.  And  at  last,  after  weio^hino;  the  matter 
well,  he  resolved  to  return  home,  and  consult  mj  mo- 
ther again,  previous  to  his  final  decision.  Friends  Ring 
ui'ged  him  to  conclude  it  at  once;  and  asked  a  ques- 
tion he  could  not  answer  even  to  himself — "Why  wilt 
thou  not  conclude  the  arrangement,  now  that  thou  art 
here,  and  we  have  mutually  agreed  to  the  terms?" 
On  returning  home,  mj  mother,  whom  we  feared  would 
be  disappointed,  said  she  was  well  pleased  it  had  so 
ended.  ''It  was  too  far  off  to  send  the  boy;  and  be- 
sides," she  added,  "  they  are  such  very  plain  Friends; 
and  all  the  plain  Friends  are  not  like  thee,  John  dear." 
This  was  one  of  the  many  instances  in  which  the  good 
hand  of  our  God  was  upon  us.  The  younger  partner 
in  that  firm  turned  out  soon  after,  to  be  a  swindler, 
and  a  most  unprincipled  man.  He  embezzled  a  large 
sum,  falsified  his  books,  and  fled  with  his  ill-gotten 
wealth  to  America,  deserting  his  nice,  lady-like  wife, 
and  large  young  family.  His  conduct  brought  a 
scandal  on  the  Society;  but  as  usual,  he  was  read  out 
of  the  Meeting,  and  the  principles  he  professed  re- 
mained intact. 

A  religious  body,  certainly,  ought  not  to  be  judged 
of,  by  the  bad  conduct  of  individuals ;  and  especially 
when  that  body  testifies  against  the  evil  members,  by 
disowning  them.  This  is  the  general  and  very  plau- 
sible argument ;  but  if  it  can  be  proved  that  the  very 
elements  of  these  unrighteous  deeds  are  component 
10 


110 


FAMILY  VISIT. 


parts  of  that  system — that  they  are  the  natural  fruits 
of  that  specious  tree,  whose  seed  germinates  in  the 
doctrines  and  practices  of  the  body — then  I  conceive 
it  is  a  work  of  righteousness  to  arraign  the  Society 
itself.  I  am  not  skilled  in  disquisitions  on  cause  and 
effect ;  and  leaving  that  to  an  abler  pen,  will  simply 
continue  my  story  of  the  working  of  Quakerism  as  it 
came  before  my  own  eyes.  "By  their  fruits  ye  shall 
know  them,"  is  a  sure  criterion  of  judgment. 

Benjamin  Sibliman,  a  minister  in  great  esteem  in 
England,  accompanied  by  the  companion  appointed  to 
watch  over  him,  paid  us  a  family  visit.  He  had  what 
is  called  a  very  weighty  concern  in  our  little  circle. 
We  were  all,  with  two  Friends,  our  guests  at  the  time, 
assembled  in  the  large  drawing-room.  The  Friends 
shook  hands  with  us  all  round,  said  what  a  fine  day, 
what  a  pleasant  situation  we  lived  in,  &c.  &c.,  and 
then  sat  down  in  silence  for  about  ten  minutes.  Friend 
Benjamin  repeatedly  drawing  out  his  handkerchief, 
and  applying  it  to  his  eyes  and  nose,  and  sighing 
deeply;  by  which  we  knew  he  was  labouring  under 
great  weight  of  spiritual  burden,  and  that  caused  us 
to  feel  a  kind  of  creeping  solemnity,  in  expectation  of 
what  was  coming.  At  length  he  spoke,  still  sitting 
in  his  easy  chair ;  (Friends  do  not  ever  stand  up  to 
speak  on  family  visits.)  He  told  us  that  he  felt  great 
love  for  us — that  he  greatly  wished  us  to  be  blessed 
of  the  Lord — that  every  member  of  our  large  and  in- 
teresting family  ought  to  be  a  "standard  bearer"  in 
our  highly  favoured  Society — that  the  Lord  was  only 


FAMILY  VISIT. 


Ill 


waiting  for  us  to  be  willing — that  if  '^'e  would  yield  to 
the  requirings  of  truth,  and  come  down  to  that  lowly 
state,  which  was  comparable  to  Mary  in  the  Gospel, 
who  anointed  the  Saviom-'s  feet,  we  should  experience 
a  lifting  up,  and  be  made  the  honoured  instruments  of 
upholding  the  principles  of  our  worthy  predecessors, 
some  of  whom  had  even  suffered  martyrdom  for  the 
precious  cause. 

He  spoke  in  this  strain  for  more  than  half  an  hour ; 
then  paused  a  few  minutes,  and  knelt  down  to  pray. 
We  all  stood  up.  He  first  prayed  that  the  dear  heads 
of  the  family  might  be  strengthened  to  maintain  to  the 
end  the  Christian  warfare,  that  when  the  solemn  close 
came,  they  might  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
they  had  set  a  good  example,  both  in  words  and  prac- 
tices, to  their  dear  children.  Then  he  prayed  that  the 
dear  eldest  daughter  of  this  house,  might  be  so  ten- 
dered by  a  feeling  of  contrition,  as  to  be  made  willing 
to  give  up  those  outward  adornments,  wliich  were  so 
calculated  to  beguile  the  unstable ;  that  she  might  feel 
the  great  responsibility  which  rested  on  her — yes,  he 
felt  bold  to  say,  on  her — as  to  the  younger  members 
of  the  family,  who  were  so  naturally  led  by  her  ex- 
ample. Then  he  prayed  that  the  Lord  would  make 
her  willing  to  give  up  the  vain  fashion  of  wearing  curls, 
and  plaiting  her  hair ;  and  that  he  would  teach  her 
that  these  were  not  little  things.  He  also  prayed  for 
the  strangers  amongst  us — that  they  might  be  gath- 
ered into  the  fold,  and  never  forget  that  they  belong- 
ed to  that  peculiar  people,  wliicii  God  liad  cliosou  for 


112 


FAMILY  VISIT. 


himself,  even  the  people  of  a  plain  language.  Then 
another  pause,  during  which  Friend  Benjamin  wiped 
his  ejes,  and  nose,  again  and  again,  and  then  he  turn- 
ed round,  and  shook  hands  with  my  father. 

A  desultory  conversation  commenced.  Abraham, 
the  companion,  was  an  old  acquaintance,  and  told  us 
that  Benjamin's  concern  was  much  greater  in  our 
family  than  it  had  been  in  any  other  in  the  town. 
This  was  a  compliment.  It  intimated  that  we  were 
of  consequence  in  the  estimation  of  an  English  Minis- 
ter ;  and  Abraham  quietly  said  to  the  eldest  daughter, 
"Now,  my  dear,  wont  thee  put  on  caps?  Thy  hair 
is,  indeed,  very  beautiful;  but  it  would  look  so  neat, 
if  closely  braided  under  a  small  cap.  I  would  like 
thee  better  with  a  cap  on,  even  than  I  do  without. 
And  then  these  little  frills  and  ornaments:  do,  my 
dear  young  friend,  give  them  up ;  they  are  only  vain 
adornings."  "Well,  now^,  Aby,"  she  replied,  "listen 
to  me.  In  the  first  place,  I  do  not  want  thee  to  like 
me  better  than  thee  does;"  and  she  smiled  archly  on 
the  good  natured  old  man — "thee  can't  help  liking 
me.  In  the  second  place,  my  time  is  far  too  valuable 
to  be  spent  making  caps,  and  wasted  day  after  day, 
clap-starching  them.  Besides,  it  was  He  who  made 
me  who  gave  me  my  hair ;  and  I  am  not  so  ungrate- 
ful as  to  hide  it  under  a  cap,  as  if  I  was  ashamed  of 
it.  The  ScrijDture  commands  me  to  adorn  myself  in 
modest  apparel,  not  to  disfigure  myself  in  an  unbecom- 
ing sectarian  garb.  Friend  Benjamin  has  relieved  his 
mind.    Thee  never  was  very  clever  at  preaching,  my 


FAMILY  VISIT. 


113 


good  Friend  Aby ;  so  sliake  hands  witli  me  now,  and 
I  promise  thee  the  sins  of  my  dress  will  not  be  laid  at 
thy  door."  ''Ah!"  replied  Aby,  "thee  is  a  mighty 
pleasant  young  woman ;  and  I  do  think  thee  is  wiser 
than  many  of  us,  for  all  thee  is  not  so  consistent  as  I 
wish  thee  was." 

Luncheon  was  announced,  and  the  worthy  Friends 
set  to  work  with  right  good  will.  They  were  some- 
what serious  whilst  eating  the  delicate  sweetbread ; 
then  cold  turkey  and  ham  raised  their  spirits,  and 
against  the  apple-tarts  and  cheese-cakes  had  done 
their  part.  Friends  Benjamin  and  Aby  were  as  jocose 
as  plain  Friends  are  permitted  to  be.  One  of  the  lads 
whispered,  just  loud  enough  for  Aby  to  hear.  "  Does 
not  Friend  Benjamin  look  much  happier  and  more 
sensible  now,  than  when  he  was  putting  his  handker- 
chief to  his  eyes,  and  trying  to  make  us  think  he 
was  oppressed,  even  to  tears,  under  the  weight  of  his 
concern  ?  Ask  him  to  take  some  flummery ;  I  am 
sui'e  he  would  like  it."  Aby  contracted  his  brows, 
but  smiled,  and  said,  "  Thee  is  a  very  wild  boy,  I  am 
afraid." 

It  was  wonderful  to  think  of  the  number  of  Friends 
who  now  began  to  have  concerns  on  their  minds  about 
our  dress.  The  boys  they  did  not  interfere  about, 
although  my  eldest  brother  was  far  more  unfriendly 
in  his  dress  than  any  one  of  us.  He  dressed  in  all 
points  like  a  gentleman,  without  any  of  those  righte- 
ous spirits  rising  up  to  testify  against  him.  But  the 
girls  were  tormented  on  the  subject;  and  as  my  father 
10* 


V 


114  DRESS. 

was  an  elder,  tliej  made  him  tliink  lie  was  deficient 
in  his  duty  unless  he  constrained  us  to  adopt  their 
views.  If  it  had  been  possible  to  sow  discord  in  our 
happy  home,  they  would  have  done  it,  by  their  un- 
ceasing efforts  to  set  the  father  and  daughters  at 
variance. 

Sarah  Mills,  of  Clonmel,  whom  I  mentioned  as 
having  the  men's  and  women's  Meetings  both  under 
her  guidance,  thought  fit  to  interfere.  She  v^rote 
letter  after  letter  to  him.  I  Avish  I  had  those  letters, 
that  I  might  copy  them  here,  for  they  were  curious 
specimens  of  self-righteous  bigotry ;  but  my  mother 
had  them  burnt,  as  discreditable  to  the  writer.  She 
wrote  to  him,  that  it  was  his  duty  to  coerce  his  daugh- 
ters ;  and  that  if  his  wife  would  not  co-operate  with 
him  in  doing  so,  he  should  exert  the  authority  of  a 
master,  and  insist  upon  obedience.  That,  as  an  elder 
in  the  Society,  he  was  under  an  especial  obligation  to 
see  that  his  family  walked  consistently.  That  the 
Society  did  expect  his  daughters  to  be  amongst  those 
who  should  take  an  active  part  in  the  discipline.  And 
she  added,  that  she  had  found  it  often  necessary  to 
exercise  control  over  her  own  family ;  and  she  expe- 
rienced that  a  firm  and  decided  manner  was  effective. 
Even  her  dear  son-in-law,  she  said,  was  now  obedient 
to  her  in  everything  she  could  wish.  That  pooi% 
craven,  hen-pecked  son-in-law,  was  a  cipher  in  his 
own  house,  as  well  as  everywhere  else. 

But  it  is  time  to  mention  what  our  offence  was 
which  this  worthy  woman  was  so  stirred  up  about.  It 


DRESS.  115 

was,  that  we  wore  tortoise-shell  side-combs.  Incredi- 
ble as  it  may  seem,  that  was  the  burden  of  her  letters. 
She  alluded  to  the  general  style  of  our  raiment,  but 
tortoise-shell  side-combs  was  the  specified  sin.  For- 
tunately, my  father  had  long  before  told  us  a  story  of 
Sarah  Mills,  which  had  brought  her  meddling  and  self- 
satisfied  character  under  our  notice  ;  and  her  wish  to 
dictate  to  him,  on  one  occasion,  in  so  ofi'ensive  a  man- 
ner, though  we  laughed  at  the  recital  of  it,  was  now 
of  great  use  in  nullifying  her  present  attempt  to  make 
him  coerce  us  at  her  instigation. 

It  was  at  a  Quarterly  Meeting  party,  before  my 
father  was  married ;  w  hen  he  was  young,  well-looking, 
and  wealthy,  and  consequently  one  whom  the  Friends 
were  anxious  to  see  suitably  settled  in  life.  Sarah 
Mills  had  unmarried  daughters,  and  wished  to  bring 
about  a  match  Avith  one  of  them.  My  father  was  slow 
at  taking  the  hints  so  often  given  him  ;  but  he  rather 
avoided  the  house,  feeling  that  even  a  casual  visit  there 
might  be  misconstrued ;  and  besides  that,  he  was  not 
only  deeply  in  love,  but  actually  engaged  to  the  bright, 
intelligent,  and  highly-educated  little  woman  with 
whom  he  afterwards  spent  his  long  and  happy  life. 
Sarah  Mills  knew  nothing  of  this  engagement,  so  she 
invited  him  very  pressingly  to  her  house,  and  he  went. 
After  dinner,  when  they  were  all  assembled,  she  said 
to  him,  "  John,  will  thee  give  me  two  or  three 
shillings?  I  want  them."  She  held  out  her  hand, 
and  he  gave  her  three  tenpenny  pieces.  She  jingled 
them  together,  and  said,  "  I  like  the  sound."  Then  to 


•r- 


116 


VISITS  FROM  THE  OVERSEERS. 


her  daughter  Rebecca — ^'  Give  me  three  tenpenny 
pieces  out  of  thy  pocket."  Rebecca  gave  them,  and  she 
shook  them  all  together  ;  and,  turning  to  the  company, 
who  were  looking  and  wondering  what  she  was  about, 
she  said,  "  I  like  that  music ;  don't  you  think  they 
jingle  very  well  together  ?"  "  How  can  thee  get  over 
that,  John?"  said  one  of  her  allies,  as  the  laugh  ran 
round  the  room.  I  wish  thee  joy.  She  is  fine,  stout, 
young  woman,"  said  another,  "  and  thy  mother-in-law 
will  save  thee  all  the  trouble  of  ordering  thy  own 
house."  As  soon  as  he  could,  my  father  slipped  away, 
without  even  saying  farewell  to  the  fair  Rebecca,  or 
her  clever,  strong-minded  mother. 

We  had  a  visit  from  the  two  women  overseers  of 
our  meeting,  to  remonstrate  on  the  impropriety  of 
having  a  drawing  master.  They  said  they  would  not 
think  of  bringing  us  before  the  Meeting  for  it,  but  it 
was  a  relief  to  their  own  minds  to  speak  to  us  on  the 
matter ;  and  they  hoped  we  would  weigh  it  well,  and 
remember,  that  it  was  in  much  love  they  had  spoken. 

Another  time,  the  overseers  came  to  say,  that  they 
had  heard  of  our  having  a  French  master ;  that  they 
knew  it  was  not  generally  objected  to  by  Friends,  but 
they  felt  easier  to  warn  us.  There  was  great  danger 
in  it ;  it  was  insidious ;  Friends  were  tempted  to  say 
things  in  French  they  would  not  say  in  English — such 
as  Monsieur  and  Madame.  They  did  not  wish  to  be 
officious,  and  they  hoped  we  would  not  think  them 
officious  ;  but  their  office  was  a  very  important  one, 
and  they  were  anxious  to  fulfil  their  duty  faithfully. 


SIMILARITY  OF  POPERY  AND  QUAKERISM.  117 


"We  were  always  ready  to  hear  them,  in  silent  and 
respectful  attention ;  and  ahvavs  gave  them  plenty  of 
cakes  and  fruit  when  they  had  unburdened  their  minds. 
We  wished  to  keep  them  in  good  humour  ;  for  if  they 
had  been  any  way  huffed  with  us,  they  would  have 
taken  a  ready  revenge,  and  put  us  under  dealing. 
This  would  have  so  grieved  my  father,  that  we  made 
many  concessions  which  we  would  not  otherwise  have 
done.  To  please  them,  and  keep  them  quiet,  we  al- 
ways wore  the  "Bonnet"  at  Meetings,  which  we 
attended  regularly  ;  and  would  stay  at  home  of  a  cold, 
damp  day,  rather  than  put  on  our  out-of-meeting 
bonnets !  and  we  always  used  the  plain  language  to 
Friends,  and  amongst  ourselves. 

There  is  a  great  similarity  between  Quakerism  and 
Popery.  Both  are  the  religion  of  the  priests,  and 
the  people  are  compelled  to  an  outward  conformity. 
The  domineering  influence  of  the  Friends  who  take 
part  in  the  discipline,  over  the  body,  is  exactly  a 
counterpart  of  that  which  the  priests  exercise  over 
their  flocks.  The  one  requires  obedience,  because 
they  are  inspired,  they  tell  us ;  the  others  call  them- 
selves the  Church,  and  demand  it.  The  spirit  is  the 
same  in  both  I 


118 


APPLICATIONS  FOR  MEMBERSHIP. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Applications  for  membership — William  Abbenger's  visit  and  sermon 
to  persons  under  twenty-one  years  of  age — Friend  Sailors — Ship- 
wrecked Girls — Escape  from  Quakerism — Dublin  Yearly  Meet- 
ing— Receipt  for  making  a  red  round  of  beef. 

I  remember  three  applications  for  membership  be- 
ing made  to  our  Meeting.  Two  of  the  applicants 
were  ladies  of  the  highest  respectability,  the  wives  of 
country  gentlemen,  middle-aged,  and  wealthy ;  the 
other  was  a  poor  woman,  unmarried,  and  living  in  the 
city.  We  knew  all  three  personally,  and  were  much 
interested  in  the  business.  They  were  kept  in  sus- 
pense for  several  months :  visit  after  visit  was  ap- 
pointed to  be  made  to  them ;  and  the  report  of  those 
visits  was  read  to  us  in  the  Monthly  Meeting.  Julia 
Drevor,  one  of  the  ladies,  agreed  to  every  thing  re- 
quired ;  she  expressed  her  entire  unity  with  all  our 
doctrines,  practices,  and  peculiarities ;  assumed  the 
strictest  garb,  adopted  the  language,  and  came  to 
Meeting  Avhenever  she  could.  She  was  admitted.  A 
sweet,  gentle,  amiable  lady  she  was.  Tired  of  the 
gay  frivolities  of  the  fashionable  life  she  had  led,  she 
rushed  into  Quakerism,  and  flattered  herself  that  the 
mortifications  she  underwent  from  her  family  and  ac- 
quaintances was  an  acceptable  sacrifice.    She  pur- 


APPLICATIONS  FOR  MEMBERSHIP. 


119 


chased  numerous  Friends'  books,  and  would  pore  over 
them  till  her  sight  failed.  My  mother  had  many  se- 
rious conversations  with  her,  and  advised  her  to  study 
the  Bible  instead,  for  of  that  she  was  very  ignorant. 
She  went  to  live  in  the  country,  and  we  rarely  met 
her.  When  we  did,  she  was  greatly  altered ;  her 
smile,  though  still  sweet,  was  very  sad.  She  soon 
after  died,  having  sent  for  the  Clergyman  of  the  pa- 
rish on  her  death-bed,  instead  of  for  one  of  our  mi- 
nisters, as  a  consistent  and  converted  Friend  ought 
to  have  done. 

Martha  Ulveston,  the  other  lady,  was  also  an  ami- 
able woman,  and  was  possessed  of  far  more  strength 
of  character  than  Julia.  They  were  relatives,  and 
had  worked  each  other  up  to  the  conviction,  that  it 
was  a  required  duty  of  them  to  become  Quakers. 
Martha  was  many  months  longer  on  our  Meeting- 
books  than  Julia.  She  found  it  more  difficult  to  give 
the  unconditional  surrender  of  all  her  pre-conceived 
ideas  of  religious  truth.  She  was  sincere  in  her  wish 
to  be  a  self-denying,  plain  Friend ;  but  her  husband, 
an  intelligent,  sensible  man,  was  greatly  averse  to  her 
doing  so.  However,  she  was  at  last  admitted,  and, 
I  believe,  continued  till  her  death,  a  few  years  after, 
conformable  in  all  respects  to  our  rules. 

The  third,  poor  little  Rachel  Bates,  was  visited 
also.  She  was  reported  to  unite  in  all  our  views  of 
religious  truth  unconditionally.  The  visitors  said  they 
believed  her  to  be  sincere,  but  that  she  was  very  igno- 
rant ;  and  that  it  was  possible  her  wish  to  join  Friends 


120      WM.  abbenger's  visit  and  sermon. 

might  be  influenced  by  the  knowledge  that  we  sup- 
ported our  own  poor.  On  that  supposed  possibility 
she  was  rejected. 

These  were  the  only  applications  for  membership 
in  our  Women's  Meeting  that  ever  came  under  my 
knowledge.  I  have  known  three  cases  of  applying 
to  be  restored  to  the  membership,  w^hich  had  been 
lost  by  marrying  in  Church.  One  of  them  only  w^as 
re-admitted ;  for  the  rule  is,  you  must  declare  you  are 
sorry  for  having  done  so ;  and  two  of  the  ladies  re- 
fused positively  to  say  this.  The  third,  after  holding 
out  for  some  years,  at  last  said,  she  was  sorry  she  had 
married ;  and  then  she  and  her  children  were  all  re- 
ceived back  again  into  the  fold. 

When  William  Abbenger  was  travelling  the  nation, 
with  a  certificate  from  the  London  Meeting,  to  visit 
families,  he  stayed  with  us  for  more  than  a  week.  We 
liked  him  very  much,  he  was  so  gentlemanly  in  his 
manners  and  habits,  and  good-humoured  and  happy 
in  himself.  His  conversation  was  interesting,  scien- 
tific, and  amusing ;  and  he  did  not  trouble  us  with 
incessant  preachings,  like  some  of  the  other  ministers. 
One  first  day  morning,  at  breakfast,  he  said  to  us,  "I 
should  like  very  much  if  some  of  the  young  people  of 
your  meeting  might  be  invited  to  meet  me  this  even- 
ing in  your  large  room.  I  think  I  should  like  to  ad- 
dress them  in  a  less  formal  manner  than  in  a  regu- 
larly appointed  gathering  in  the  Meeting-house.  Am 
I  asking  too  much  ?  or  imposing  a  burden  on  thee,  my 
friend  ?"   My  father  promptly  replied,  that  his  wishes 


WM.  abbexger's  visit  axd  sermon. 


121 


should  be  attended  to ;  and  each  of  us  was  commis- 
sioned to  invite  the  young  people  up  to  tea.  "  Let 
your  invitations,"  said  Friend  William,  "be  limited 
to  persons  under  twenty-one  years  of  age." 

Friends'  Meeting-houses  are  well  designated.  They 
are,  indeed,  places  for  meeting  together ;  shaking 
hands,  chatting,  and  communicating  all  sorts  of  inte- 
resting family  and  Society  news ;  and  it  is  possible, 
that  during  the  time  they  all  sit  down  in  silence, 
many  are  striving  hard  to  meditate  on  the  things 
which  concern  the  salvation  of  their  souls ;  but  the 
Lord  has  declared,  "  My  house  shall  be  called  the 
house  of  prayer."  In  the  Friends'  Meeting-house, 
prayer  is  very  seldom  heard.  Year  after  year  will 
often  pass  over,  and  not  one  solitary  prayer  be  audi- 
bly offered  in  many  of  them. 

It  was  to  Meeting  and  to  meet  our  friends  we  went ; 
and  great  amusement  we  had  executing  Friend  Wil- 
liam's wishes.  "  Mary,  I  can't  ask  thee  to  come ; 
thee  is  over  the  allowed  age,  I  think;  is  not  thee?" 
to  a  young  lady  of  twenty-one  and  a-half.  "  Rebecca," 
to  another  who  looked  sixty,  "I  do  not  exactly  know 
thy  age ;  but  if  thou  art  not  over  twenty-one,  Friend 
Abbenger  has  a  concern  to  address  thee,  this  evening, 
at  tea.  May  I  say  thee  will  come?"  "  Oh!  certainly, 
my  dear."  "  Susanna,  how  old  art  thou  ?"  "I  am 
not  going  to  tell  thee."  "  Oh  !  very  well ;  but  I  can't 
ask  thee  to  the  English  Friend's  great  tea,  unless  thee 
tells  me."  "Why?"  "No  one  is  to  be  let  come, 
who  is  over  twenty-one."  "Oh!  well,  I'll  come;  • 
11 


122      WM.  abbenger's  visit  and  sermon. 


I'm  nineteen."  "  Ah,  Susanna,  I  do  think  thee  is  ten 
years  more  than  that."  "Oh!  yes,  I'll  come;  it  is 
this  odious  bonnet  that  makes  me  look  old."  "James, 
I  am  sorry  I  can't  ask  thee  to  our  great  tea  party 
this  evening."  "And  why,  pray,  can  thee  not?  My 
sisters  have  just  told  me  they  are  going."  "  Oh !  yes, 
they  are  young  enough.  The  English  Friend  has 
specified  twenty-one  as  the  oldest  that  he  wishes  for. 
Thee  is  long  past  that,  thee  knows."  "Nonsense,  I 
am  seventeen."  "No,  James,  thee  cannot  deceive 
me.  I  remember  those  nice  black  whiskers  of  thine 
for  many  years  past."  "  Oh  !  yes ;  but  does  not  thee 
know  that  I  am  a  lusus  naturae  ?" 

Altogether  we  assembled  a  company  of  eighty ;  and, 
very  much  against  my  mother's  conscience,  she  had  to 
send  messengers  to  purchase  bread  and  cakes  on  the 
Sabbath  day,  to  feed  this  unexpected  host  of  juveniles. 
As  soon  as  the  tea  things  were  removed.  Friend  Wil- 
liam, who  had  been  very  chatty  and  pleasant  until 
now,  dropped  into  silence.  His  face  became  very 
grave,  and  we  all  ceased  to  speak,  and  ranged  our- 
selves in  quiet  order  round  the  room,  and  round  the 
table  in  the  centre.  The  door  was  open,  and  many 
were  seated  on  the  landing-place  and  up  the  stairs. 
After  a  lengthened  pause,  he  asked  my  brother  to 
read  a  chapter  in  the  Gospels,  but  did  not  say  which. 
Then  a  short  silence,  and  he  addressed  us  all  on  the 
importance  of  religion ;  the  value  of  the  soul ;  the  un- 
certainty of  life ;  the  necessity  for  dedication  of  heart ; 
the  high  profession  which  Friends  make  of  inspira- 


WM.  abbexger's  visit  and  sermon. 


123 


tion,  and  the  privileges  which  we  enjoyed  as  members 
of  a  chosen  and  peculiar  people.  He  spoke  for  nearly 
an  hour,  and  the  Friends  left  us,  greatly  pleased  with 
the  novelty,  and  edification,  and  entertainment  they 
had  received. 

After  they  were  gone,  and  the  Friend  had  retired 
for  the  night,  we  began  to  converse  on  the  events  of 
the  day.  My  mother's  remark  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  my  mind.  She  said,  "I  was  greatly  disap- 
pointed in  Friend  Abbenger's  address.  I  do  think 
our  ministers  will  have  a  great  deal  to  answer  for, 
they  all  neglect  their  opportunities  of  preaching  the 
Gospel  so  sadly.  Here  were  eighty  immortal  souls, 
listening  with  as  much  attention  as  if  an  angel  from 
heaven  was  speaking  to  them.  Why  did  he  not  tell 
them  they  were  sinners,  and  must  be  washed  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  if  they  would  be  saved?  Why 
did  he  not  tell  them  to  read  their  Bibles,  and  to  pray 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  might  enable  them  to  understand 
its  truths  ?  Instead  of  this,  he  was  pufiing  them  up 
with  the  false  idea,  that  they  were  superior  to  other 
denominations  of  Christians.  Our  high  professions — 
our  highly-pri^dleged  Society — our  chosen  and  pecu- 
liar people.  Our  profession  is  the  Christian  Religion 
— nothing  more  or  higher  than  that  of  all  the  Re- 
formed Churches.  The  highest  privilege  a  mortal 
can  have,  is  to  be  allowed  access  to  God  in  prayer 
through  Christ.  This  is  not  certainly  peculiar  to  our 
Society.  The  privilege  he  meant,  of  being  allowed 
to  attend  oui'  Monthly  Meetings,  is  unworthy  of  a 


124 


FRIEND  SAILORS. 


preacher's  notice.  If  our  ministers  knew  themselves, 
that  the  only  way  in  which  a  soul  can  be  saved,  is  by 
faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus ;  and  if  they  really  felt  in  their 
own  hearts  this  truth,  I  am  sure  they  would  preach  it 
simply  and  savingly." 

As  my  father  was  a  Russian  merchant,  his  business 
often  brought  him  in  contact  with  the  captains  of  ves- 
sels. They  are  a  class  of  men  for  whom  he  felt  much 
interest ;  the  comforts  of  so  many  homes  depending 
upon  their  skill  and  enterprise,  and  they  themselves 
so  completely  deprived  of  all  domestic  enjoyment.  He 
therefore  constantly  brought  a  nautical  friend  to  dine 
and  spend  the  evening  with  us ;  and  when  the  indi- 
vidual happened,  as  he  sometimes  was,  to  be  a  Qua- 
ker, he  was  allowed  to  become  almost  domesticated 
during  his  stay  in  the  city.  Some  of  these  guests  were 
very  interesting,  intelligent  men — Spaniards,  Portu- 
guese, Dutch,  and  Russian ;  and  as  my  father  could 
converse  with  them  in  their  own  languages,  their 
happy  and  gratified  looks  told  of  their  enjoyment; 
and  many  and  many  a  little  token  of  their  grateful 
remembrance  of  his  kindness  was  sent  to  him  from 
far-off  lands.  The  parting  gift  he  loved  to  give  them, 
was  a  Bible  in  their  own  language. 

One  winter's  day,  he  sent  us  up  a  note  from  town, 
to  say,  that  a  captain  and  his  three  daughters  were  to 
dine,  and  stay  a  few  days  with  us.  He  added,  ''their 
ship  was  wrecked,  they  have  lost  everything,  and  were 
picked  up  by  one  of  the  coal  ships.  Tell  the  girls  to 
dress  them,  and  make  them  comfortable."  Poor 


SHIPWRECKED  GIRLS. 


125 


things !  they  arrived  soon  after  the  note — three  nice, 
pretty  girls,  all  under  seventeen.  One  had  a  man's 
coat  on ;  another  a  blanket  wrapped  round  her ;  and 
the  little  thing  had  on  a  sailor  boy's  trowsers,  and  a 
piece  of  canvass  sail-cloth  like  a  shawl.  We  soon 
attired  them  in  our  own  dresses,  refreshed  and  cheer- 
ed them ;  and  against  dinner-time  came,  they  were 
cheerfully  smiling,  and  telling  us  of  their  misfortune. 
They  had  been  run  down  by  a  large  vessel,  and  dam- 
aged so  much,  that  when  the  night  came  on,  wild  and 
wet,  their  ship  was  unmanageable.  The  masts  were 
cut  down  to  try  and  save  their  lives,  but  at  last  they 
had  to  get  into  the  boat,  as  the  vessel  began  to  sink, 
and  after  tossing  for  many  hours  like  a  cork  on  the 
billows,  the  coal  ship  had  seen  and  saved  them.  One 
man  was  lost  out  of  the  crew ;  the  others,  though  sadly 
bruised  and  frost-bitten,  were  very  thankful  to  have 
their  lives  preserved.  They  remained  our  guests  about 
a  week,  and  then  left  us  well  clad,  and  with  a  consid- 
erable sum  of  money,  which  my  father  had  collected 
and  raised  for  them. 

Another  of  our  nautical  visitors,  having  inadvert- 
ently mentioned  the  names  of  some  London  Friends, 
was  questioned  as  to  his  knowledge  of  them ;  and  at 
last  he  was  reluctantly  brought  on  to  confess,  that  he 
was  a  Friend  himself.  His  mother  was  an  elder  or 
overseer  in  the  Meeting,  his  father  dead,  and  he,  the 
eldest  of  several  children,  could  not  brook  the  bondage 
of  Quakerism.  To  escape  it,  and  the  remonstrances 
and  reproofs  of  his  mother  and  her  friends,  he  had, 
11* 


126 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


when  quite  a  lad,  run  away  from  home,  and  gone  as 
cabin-boy  on  board  an  East  Indiaman.  He  had  worked 
hard,  saved  money,  and  was  now  part  owner  of  the 
vessel  he  commanded.  We  were  the  first  Friends  he 
had  come  in  contact  with  since  his  flight ;  and  his  heart 
warmed  to  the  old  familiar  language  of  his  childhood, 
and  the  names  of  his  unforgotten  former  acquaintancs. 
By  my  father's  persuasion  and  assistance,  he  renewed 
his  intercourse  with  his  mother,  and  obtained  her  for- 
giveness, which,  he  repeatedly  declared,  was  a  great 
ease  to  his  mind ;  but  he  would  not  return  to  Quaker- 
ism, of  which  he  had  quite  a  horror. 

My  mother  having  occasion  to  go  to  Dublin,  and  it 
being  nearly  the  time  of  the  Yearly  Meeting,  there,  it 
was  planned  to  make  a  pleasant  party,  and  to  attend 
it.  My  mother,  sister,  two  brothers,  and  myself,  an- 
ticipated great  pleasure  from  this  trip,  and  were  not 
disappointed.  We  travelled  in  our  own  carriage  and 
post-horses,  and  put  up  at  Tuthill's  Hotel,  in  Dawson 
street,  to  be  near  the  Meeting-house.  It  was  not 
what  is  called  an  interesting  Meeting ;  that  is,  there 
were  no  American,  and  only  two  English  ministers, 
at  it ;  and  according  to  the  number  and  importance  of 
those  strangers,  is  the  attendance  of  our  own  country 
Friends;  and,  consequently,  the  entertainments  and 
parties  were  smaller,  and  less  attractive,  than  Yearly 
Meeting  companies  generally  are.  However,  that 
made  no  difference  to  us.  The  few  invitations  which 
we  accepted,  were  given  in  honor  of  us,  not  of  the 
Meeting  Friends.    We  entertained  our  own  company 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


127 


at  the  Hotel,  sometimes  at  breakfast,  sometimes  at 
tea,  about  half  a  dozen  at  a  time.  Many  of  our 
acquaintances  were  out  of  the  Society;  and  as  my 
mother's  character  was  well  known,  she  was  visited 
by  several  of  the  benevolent  and  religious  leaders  of 
the  Societies  formed  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  and 
the  ignorant.  They  endeavoured,  and  with  success, 
to  interest  her  in  the  Kildare-street  Society,  the  Hi- 
bernian Society,  the  Bible  Society,  and  several  other 
such  like  Societies.  We  attended  some  of  the  Rotundo 
Meetings,  and  spent  altogether  a  very  pleasant  six 
weeks.  But  I  had  seen  so  little  of  the  Friends,  and 
attended  so  few  of  the  sittings  of  the  Yearly  Meeting, 
that  I  resolved  to  persuade  my  father  to  bring  me 
with  him  to  the  next,  as  I  knew  he  would  attend  all 
regularly,  and  go  among  the  Friends  in  their  own 
houses.  I  found  no  difficulty  in  inducing  the  dear  man 
to  gratify  my  wishes.  With  one  sister  for  a  compa- 
nion, we  came  by  the  coach,  and  engaged  apartments 
at  the  Gresham. 

This  proved  an  unusually  large  and  interesting 
Meeting.  The  names  of  the  celebrated  ministers  who 
had  applied  to  their  own  Meetings  for  certificates  to 
attend  it,  had  been  spoken  of  all  through  the  country 
for  several  weeks  previously.  John  Earl,  with  his 
sister,  the  celebrated  Elizabeth  Stately,  and  her  sister- 
in-law,  the  little  Elizabeth  Grill ;  and,  besides  these, 
there  were  seven  other  strange  ministers.  The  first 
day  Morning  Meeting  was  very  large,  and  several  of 
the  preachers,  men  and  women,  addressed  us.  Eliza- 


128 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


beth  Stately  prayed  for  a  blessing  on  the  Yearly 
Meeting,  and  that  all  the  sittings  might  be  owned  by 
the  Divine  Head. 

It  is  not  easy  to  recollect  what  the  Friends  say  in 
their  sermons ;  they  are  so  discursive,  so  rambling,  so 
slovenly  in  their  arrangement,  and  so  mixed  up  with 
the  expressions  of  their  own  feelings,  and  I  may  add, 
so  much  alike  in  the  one  point  of  exalting  Quakerism, 
and  treating  it  as  the  only  true  development  of  Chris- 
tianity, that  unless  you  write  them  down  at  the  time, 
they  soon  pass  away,  unless  some  peculiar  oddity  im- 
presses the  speaker  and  the  subject  on  the  memory. 
I  had  attended  Dr.  Crook's  lectures,  and  from  them 
learned  how  to  take  down  the  words  of  the  speakers. 
I  have  several  manuscript  volumes  of  Friends'  ad- 
dresses beside  me,  which,  however,  I  fear  would  prove 
but  tiresome  reading,  if  I  inserted  them.  The  opinion 
of  Quaker  preaching,  given  by  the  good  William  Wil- 
berforce,  I  entirely  agree  with — "  It  leaves  behind  it 
no  valuable  deposit." 

After  the  Morning  Meeting,  we  went  by  invitation 
to  dine  with  one  of  the  head  Friends  of  Dublin.  There 
were  about  eighteen  guests.  Our  entertainment  was 
excellent,  choice,  substantial,  and  varied,  with  most 
delicious  confectionary,  and  good  wines.  The  com- 
pany all  sedately  chatty,  and  gravely  pleasant. 

At  the  Evening  Meeting  we  were  favored  with 
five  sermons — two  men  and  three  women  speakers ; 
and  then  we  took  tea  with  another  Friend,  in  a  very 
large  company,  which  had  been  gathered  together,  in 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


129 


honor  of  the  great  ministers  who  were  of  the  party. 
Two  rooms  were  filled  with  guests.  The  plain  Friends 
gathered  around  the  English  ministers  in  the  best  room, 
listening  with  devout  attention  to  their  remarks,  and 
occasionally  venturing  to  utter  a  few  timid  words.  I 
was,  of  course,  among  the  younger  and  less  important 
part  of  the  company,  in  the  back  room,  and  yet  so 
near  the  folding  doors,  that  I  could  see  and  hear  all 
•  that  was  doing. 

"  I  really  am  quite  pleased  I  have  come  to  Ireland," 
said  the  English  Friend,  "we  had  quite  a  privileged 
time  in  both  Meetings  to-day." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Joseph,  our  host,  "it  was  a  precious 
opportunity." 

"I  am  of  opinion,"  she  said,  "that  we  English 
Friends  would  do  well,  to  be  more  frequently  in  the 
habit  of  coming  amongst  you,  it  feels  quite  refreshing 
to  me,  to  be  permitted  to  associate  with  so  many  of 
our  dear  Friends  in  the  truth,  in  their  own  native 
land." 

"Yes,"  said  Joseph;  "and  it  is  very  gratifying  to 
us,  to  see  you  amongst  us." 

"  Canst  thou  tell  me  who  that  female  Friend  is,  that 
addressed  the  Meeting  this  morning ;  she  sat  the  last 
in  our  gallery,  and  commenced,  I  think,  with  the  words, 

do  verily  believe'?" 

"Oh I  yes,"  he  answered;  "that  is  Sarah  Black — 
a  wonderful  woman ;  she  is  an  acknowledged  minister. 
She  is  sometimes  very  large  in  the  exercise  of  her 
gift." 


130 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


"Your  ministers,  I  observe,"  said  she,  "are  mostly 
females." 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "an  American  Friend  was  not 
long  since  amongst  us ;  and  remarking  how  the  gift 
of  the  ministry  was  so  generally  bestowed  on  our  wo- 
men Friends,  he  was  led  to  speak  of  it  from  the  gallery, 
as  a  symptom  of  decline  in  the  vigour  of  our  Society. 
He  warned  us  to  stir  up  the  life  within  us ;  or,  said  he, 
*the  women  will  take  your  crowns  from  you.'  Some  * 
of  our  females  were  not  well  pleased  at  the  remarks 
he  made." 

"Really,"  she  replied,  "I  am  opinion,  that  it  is 
very  desirable,  men  Friends  should  share  with  us  in 
the  burden  of  the  ministry.  The  weight  of  so  serious 
a  calling  is  too  important,  to  be  exclusively  laid  on  the 
females." 

"Yes,"  said  Joseph;  "but  our  men  do  not  seem  to 
apprehend  that  they  are  called  to  speaking  in  public ; 
and  as  the  women  do  feel  willing  to  surrender  them- 
selves to  the  service,  it  appears  as  if  the  arrangement 
was  not  altogether  of  our  own  seeking." 

"Ah!"  she  said,  "but  I  am  of  opinion,  that  if  our 

;  men  Friends  were  faithful  to  the  tender  monitions  of 
the  divine  light,  they  would  be  appointed  to  the  service 
of  the  ministry.  I  am  really  of  opinion,  that  there  is 

I  danger  to  be  apprehended,  when  this  important  office 
in  the  Chui'ch  is  wholly  delegated  to  our  sex.  Some 

(  of  us  may  not  be  well  skilled  in  administering  that 
solid  meat,  which  a  healthful  body  requires,  although 

'  capable  of  supplying  the  milk  which  is  suited  for 

{  babes."  ■        '  ■  ^'  "      ■  ' 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


131 


"Yes,"  said  Joseph;  " but  thou  kno west  it  is  the 
Spirit  that  speaks,  and  the  instrument  is  not  to  be 
regarded.  The  edification  which  we  require,  will  be 
administered  to  us  by  the  Spirit,  through  that  vessel 
which  is  dedicated  to  the  service ;  and  perhaps  the 
weaker  the  vessel,  the  more  glorified  may  the  Spii'it 
be;  for  there  is  no  distinction  of  persons." 

She  paused  a  few  minutes,  and  then  said,  "Is  that 
<■  young  woman,  who  was  seated  on  the  steps  of  our 
gallery,  and  spoke  a  few  words  this  evening,  an  ac- 
knowledged minister?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Joseph,  "she  has  very  lately  been 
acknowledged;  she  belongs  to  one  of  our  small  coun- 
try Meetings." 

"She  appears  to  be  a  very  simple-minded  person; 
art  thou  personally  acquainted  with  her?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied;  "she  has  been  very  carefully 
brought  up,  by  her  mother,  Anne  Butt.  Has  dedi- 
cated herself  very  early  to  the  work  of  the  ministry : 
she  is  only  about  twenty -four  years  of  age." 

"Ah!"  she  replied,  "I  am  of  opinion,  there  may 
be  a  rashness  in  encoui-aging  what  may  prove  but  the 
zealous  desires  of  a  well-meaning  young  person." 

The  name  Anne  Butt,  had  been  heard  in  the  back 
room ;  and  I  turned  to  listen  what  the  juvenile  portion 
of  the  company  thought  of  her. 

"Mary,  I  think  thee  knows  all  about  her;  come 
now,  do  tell  us,"  said  one. 

"I  do"  said  Mary;  "in  the  first  place,  she  has 
been  brought  up  a  model  of  our  third  query,  in  plain- 


132 


DUBLIN  YEx\IlLY  MEETING. 


ness  of  speech,  behaviour,  and  apparel.  Her  mother 
was  so  careful  to  bring  her  up  consistently,  and  to 
keep  her  from  contamination  with  the  world,  that  poor 
Anne  was  never  allowed  even  to  sit  in  the  front  of  the 
house,  lest  she  should  look  out  at  the  window  and  see 
vanity  or  wickedness.  She  was  taught  her  letters  out 
of  George  Fox's  Life,  and  to  read,  in  Sarah  Grubb's 
Journal.  She  told  me  that  she  had  great  satisfaction 
in  being  able  to  say,  that  she  had  never  read  any  books 
but  Friends'  books." 

"Consequently,"  added  a  plain-looking  young  man 
standing  by,  "  she  is  well  calculated  to  preach  to 
Friends." 

"  Cousin  Edward,"  said  Mary,  "thee  must  not  in- 
terrupt me  with  such  unbecoming  remarks.  Anne  is 
an  acknowledged  minister  of  our  Society,  and  must  be 
spoken  of  with  respect." 

"  Go  on,  Mary,  and  never  mind  him.  Ah  !  do  ;  we 
are  all  interested." 

"I  do  not  think  I  have  much  more  to  tell.  She 
can  not  only  read,  but  write  too,  and  do  sums  in  a 
small  way.  Then  she  works  beautifully ;  instead  of 
hemming  her  handkerchiefs,  she  stitches  them  all 
round,  two  threads  to  every  stitch.  She  is  very  fond 
of  needle-work,  and  spends  most  of  her  time  at  it; 
but  all  plain-work  of  course." 

"  Consequently  she  is  well  calculated  to  preach," 
said  Edward  again. 

"I  will  not  condescend  to  notice  thee,  Edward," 
said  Mary,  smiling.    "  Anne  is  far  above  us  all,  now. 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


133 


She  used  to  be  very  glad  to  see  me ;  but  now  she  can 
only  speak  to  the  elderly  plain  Friends.  She  drops 
into  silence,  when  any  of  her  old  acquaintances  are 
near,  and  is  much  given  to  the  practice  of  admonish- 
ing us.  She  has  concerns  about  so  many  things,  which 
it  is  unpleasant  to  think  one  may  not  manage  for 
one's-self,  that  we  rather  avoid  her  company  now. 
My  dress — and  I  am  sure  I  am  plain  as  plain  can  be 
— is  a  constant  trouble  to  her  spirit ;  but  she  is  far 
beyond  me.  She  is  so  very  plain,  she  will  not  even 
wear  fingers  in  her  gloves." 

"Indeed,"  said  Edward,  ''that  is  plain;  I  wonder 
is  she  too  plain  to  wear  toes  to  her  stockings." 

This  last  idea  of  Edward's  upset  all  our  gravity ; 
and  a  laugh  too  loud  to  be  quite  decorous,  was  the 
consequence. 

The  next  morning  the  Meetings  for  discipline  com- 
menced. The  room  we  met  in  was  very  crowded. 
The  business  commenced  according  to  the  rules  of  the 
Book  of  Discipline,  by  reading  over  what  had  been 
done  last  year ;  and  then  the  clerk  was  appointed  for 
the  present  time,  with  three  other  Friends  to  assist 
her.  They  sat  at  one  side  of  an  elevated  table,  which, 
being  covered  with  a  green  cloth,  and  strewn  with 
books,  pens,  and  paper,  had  quite  a  business  look. 
The  ministers  were  on  the  seat  exactly  behind  them, 
but  raised  a  couple  of  steps  higher ;  and  we  so  ranged 
in  front,  as  that  every  one  could  see  the  table  and  the 
ministers.  Very  soon  after  we  had  sat  down  in  silence, 
the  English  Friend  knelt  down,  and  prayed  for  a  bless- 
12 


134  DUBLIN  YEAKLY  MEETING. 

ing  on  the  assembled  company,  in  much  the  same  lan- 
guage as  she  had  used  the  morning  before  in  the  pub- 
lic worship.  The  names  of  those  who  had  been  sent 
from  distant  Meetings  as  representatives,  were  called 
over;  each  one  slowly  rising  and  answering,  "Here," 
when  her  name  was  mentioned.  Then  the  clerk  read 
out  one  query,  and  each  *  representative  in  her  turn 
rejDlied  to  it.  Then  a  second  and  a  third  query ;  that 
was  all  the  business  done  at  the  first  sitting ;  for  seve- 
ral Eriends  had  concerns  to  speak,  and  took  up  the 
time  doing  so.  One  said,  "  She  did  not  feel  easy  to 
refrain  from  mentioning  a  subject  that  had  very  seri- 
ously rested  on  her  mind ;  and  which  she  believed  to 
be  of  importance  ;  for  we  were  a  self-denying  people, 
and  it  became  us  to  let  our  light  shine.  A  laxity  had 
crept  in  among  Friends,  in  the  matter  of  entertaining 
their  country  Eriends,  and  the  strangers  who  favored 
us  with  their  company.  She  would  not  wish  to  put 
any  impediment  in  the  way  of  due  hospitality ;  but 
the  show,  and  the  extravagance,  and  the  profusion, 
were  calculated  to  throw  a  stumbling-block  in  the  way 
of  the  unlearned.  Sweets  after  dinner,  were  a  great 
need-not,  and  should  be  abstained  from  at  such  a  so- 
lemn time  ;  and  wine  was  apt  to  make  Friends  drowsy, 
when  they  came  to  the  Evening  Meeting."  She  then 
sat  down,  and  in  about  two  minutes  rose  up  again,  and 
said,  "  I  feel  easier  to  add,  that  cakes  at  tea  are  a 
superfluity,  which  Eriends  would  do  well  to  avoid." 

This  meeting  lasted  for  two  hours  ;  and  after  it  was 
over,  we  all  hurried  oif  to  dinner.    We  found  ourselves 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


135 


again  in  a  large  company,  in  which  some  of  the  En- 
glish Friends  were  included.  The  dinner  was  a  capital 
good  one  ;  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl,  and  pies  and  puddings 
in  abundance.  The  lady  of  the  house  apologized  for 
the  excellence  of  the  repast  she  had  invited  us  to ;  say- 
ing, that  dinner  had  been  ordered  before  she  went  to 
iSleeting ;  otherwise  she  would  have  paid  due  deference 
to  the  advice  given  in  the  Yearly  Meeting.  The  guests 
told  her  they  needed  no  apology.  One  of  the  men 
guests  asked  what  she  alluded  to ;  and  when  told, 
said,  "  Ah  I  I  think  I  can  guess  who  gave  that  advice. 
Was  it  not  Sarah  Castle?"  "  Yes."  She  gives  very 
poor  entertainments  herself,  and  it  vexes  her  to  hear 
the  comparisons  which  are  made.  She  wants  to  have 
you  all  in  the  same  box  with  herself." 

When  dinner  was  over  we  all  hurried  back  to  Even- 
ing Meeting.  Two  more  of  the  queries  were  got 
through,  and  the  certificates  of  the  English  Friends 
were  sent  by  the  Men's  Meeting,  sitting  close  by,  in 
another  room,  in  to  us.  These  documents  were  curious 
in  their  way.  They  mentioned  that  the  Friend  named 
in  each  of  them,  was  a  minister  in  that  particular 
Meeting  which  issued  it ;  that  she  was  in  good  esteem 
amongst  them,  and  that  much  unity  had  been  felt  for 
her,  in  the  labor  of  love  she  was  performing,  in  visit- 
ing Ireland.  After  the  clerk  had  read  these  papers, 
in  the  usual  slow,  monotonous  tone,  which  the  Friends 
adopt,  to  give  solemnity  to  their  proceedings,  one 
after  another,  three  women  rose  to  express  thankful- 
ness that  their  dear  Friends  had  been  led  to  visit  this 


136 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


land — to  hope  that  the  Lord  woukl  own  the  dedica- 
tion of  heart  which  had  caused  these  beloved  Friends 
to  leave  their  native  shores,  and  come  to  refresh  the 
spirits  of  the  travailing  ones — to  entreat  Friends  to 
prize  the  precious  opportunity  now  afforded  them,  and 
to  esteem  it  as  a  very  plain  proof  that  the  Lord  was 
still  gracious  to  us,  seeing  that  he  had  sent  his  chosen 
ones  to  minister  to  us,  unworthy  as  we  w^ere  of  so  great 
a  privilege.  Besides  these  complimentary  preachings, 
several  short  remarks,  each  followed  by  the  usual  si- 
lence, were  made  on  the  queries.    That  on  dress, 
being,  not  "clear"  from  any  of  the  Meetings,  caused 
great  affliction  ;  and  the  outpourings  of  remonstrances, 
on  the  decline  of  true  religion,  which  was  indicated  by 
these  deviations  from  the  wholesome  rules  of  our 
Society.    One  said,  "  She  was  oppressed  by  witness- 
ing the  inroads  of  the  enemy,  that  she  felt  very  bold 
to  say,  the  responsibility  which  rested  on  mothers  was 
very  great.    They  ought  to  force  obedience  from  their 
families ;  but,  alas !  alas !  she  feared  that  too  often 
they  had  opened  the  door  for  further  departure,  by 
putting  straw  bonnets  on  their  dear  children.  She 
was  willing  to  believe  they  had  unintentionally  erred 
by  entertaining  the  fallacious  notion,  that  for  young 
children  it  was  a  matter  of  small  moment." 

At  the  end  of  every  one  of  the  sittings,  a  written 
message  was  sent  in  to  the  men,  to  say,  the  women 
wished  to  know  had  the  men  any  business  to  commu- 
nicate to  them,  and  to  request  information  of  the  time 
to  which  the  men  meant  to  adjourn.    The  men  would 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


137 


then  keep  us  waiting  a  long  time,  and  at  last  send 
back  as  formal  a  note  as  tliat  they  had  received,  and 
perhaps  two  or  three  printed  epistles  and  testimonies 
of  the  dead  Friends. 

When  the  Evening  Meeting  was  over,  we  went  to 
another  Friend's  house  to  tea,  and  were  entertained 
in  the  same  way — plenty  of  tea,  and  cakes,  and  good 
things  ;  and  the  conversation,  almost  invariably,  was 
restricted  to  comments  on  the  Friends  who  took  part 
in  the  Discipline,  silly,  witty,  and  pungent  as  the 
speaker  happened  to  be.  And  really,  when  I  call  to 
mind  the  many,  many  remarks  I  have  heard  made  on 
the  slavish  subjection  of  intellect  and  common  sense, 
which  these  good  Friends  demand  of  their  hearers, 
and  the  just  appreciation  of  their  claims  to  deferen- 
tial compliance  which  was  expressed,  I  am  astonished 
that  the  mental  thraldom  is  so  long  endured. 

The  third  morning  there  was  a  meeting  for  worship, 
when  both  men  and  women  sat  together.  We  were 
given  several  short  sermons,  and  one  long  one,  which 
was  very  good  of  its  kind ;  for  J ohn  Earl  was  the 
very  best  minister  in  the  Society. 

After  that  was  over,  we  went  to  another  dinner 
party;  but  here  the  fruits  of  the  advice  given  by  Sa- 
rah Castle  was  unpleasantly  evident.  A  leg  of  mut- 
ton and  potatoes,  and  a  red  round  of  cold  beef,  was 
all  the  dinner,  not  even  a  pudding ;  and  when  the 
cloth  was  removed,  instead  of  wine,  coffee  was  served 
up.^ 

There  was  no  danger  to  bo  npprelienrled  that  even- 
12* 


138 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


ing  of  our  being  drowsy  in  Meeting.  A  couple  more 
of  the  queries  were  gone  through,  and  preached  on. 
One  of  the  English  Friends  had  much  to  say  for  the 
easing  of  her  own  mind,  on  the  beauty  of  our  disci- 
pline, the  value  of  upholding  it  in  all  its  primitive 
loveliness,  and  the  danger  of  departing  from  its  order. 
Another  English  Friend  hoped  we  were  careful  to 
study  the  Holy  Scriptures.  She  had  found  them  a 
light  to  her  feet,  and  a  lamp  to  her  path.  They  had 
comforted  her  in  the  hour  of  bereavement,  and  coun- 
selled her  in  the  path  of  difficulty.  She  was  jealous 
of  her  dear  Irish  sisters,  lest  this  invaluable  treasure 
of  heavenly  wisdom  had  been  disregarded,  and  she 
was  of  opinion,  that  a  revival  of  religion  would  fol- 
low the  diligent  and  prayerful  study  of  that  Holy 
Book.  Soon  after  she  had  resumed  her  seat,  up  rose 
one  of  our  own  country  preachers,  and  said,  she  could 
not  feel  easy  to  refrain  from  adding  a  few  words  to 
the  instructive  counsel  our  dear  Friend  had  so  weight- 
ily imparted.  She  was  very  fearful  there  was  neglect 
in  the  perusal  of  Friends'  books.  She  was  far  from 
wishing  to  detract  from  the  importance  of  studying 
the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  one  should  be  done,  and 
the  other  not  undone ;  for  it  was  the  self-same  Spirit 
which  dictated  the  Scriptures,  by  which  our  dear  pre- 
decessors had  been  enabled  to  give  forth  those  valua- 
ble works.  It  was  the  same  Spirit  which  had  gathered 
us  as  a  people,  and  we  ought  to  make  ourselves  ac- 
quainted with  the  doctrines  by  which  our  highly- 
favoui^ed  Society  had  been  of  old  distinguished  from 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


139 


the  ungodly  world.  It  was  a  truth,  which  had  been 
in  a  very  remarkable  manner  borne  in  upon  her  mind, 
that  our  Society  would  decline ;  yea,  would  become 
as  a  thing  of  naught,  if  the  perusal  of  Friends' 
Books  was  neglected.  She  said,  "  It  stands  us  upon, 
my  dear  sisters,  to  look  well  to  our  doings  in  this 
matter." 

We  went  to  another  tea  party  this  evening,  and 
heard  sad  complaints  of  the  poor  dinners  which,  in 
compliance  with  Sarah  Castle's  advice,  the  Friends 
had  given  generally.  The  men  Friends,  old  and 
young,  gave  their  opinion,  that  Sarah  Castle  ^'  had 
run  before  her  guiding  in  the  matter." 

The  fourth  morning  again  found  us  at  Meeting.  We 
had  always  a  very  unpleasant  ordeal  to  pass  through, 
to  get  to  our  own  meeting-room.  There  is  a  long 
vestibule  leading  to  the  inner  hall,  and  all  along  this 
vestibule  the  men  range  themselves,  to  stare  at  the 
women  as  they  pass  in.  There  they  make  their  com- 
ments, often  audibly,  and  fix  among  themselves  which 
is  to  be  called  the  prettiest  girl  at  the  Meeting.  In 
the  hall  inside  is  the  place  where  the  invitations  are 
given,  and,  consequently,  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  make 
your  way  to  the  interior. 

The  business  was  just  of  the  same  kind — two  more 
queries,  one  or  two  more  epistles  read,  and  then  a 
Committee  appointed  to  draw  up  answers  to  those 
epistles,  and  to  bring  them  to  a  future  sitting  to  be 
approved  of  by  the  Meeting.  All  the  business  which 
is  done  might  be  got  over  in  ten  minutes  easily ;  but 


140 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


it  is  a  part  of  the  system  to  spin  out  the  appearance 
of  doing  something  for  the  allotted  two  hours.  At  this 
time  two  men  Friends  sent  in  a  note,  to  say  they  had 
a  concern  to  visit  the  women  Friends.  A  note  was 
returned,  saying,  that  the  present  appeared  a  suitable 
time  to  receive  the  proposed  visit  of  men  Friends  ;  and 
as  soon  as  the  door-keeper  had  made  her  solemn  exit 
with  the  missive,  the  Friends  in  the  best  seat  in  the 
preachers'  gallery  vacated  their  places,  and  settled 
them  comfortably  for  the  men.  After  a  few  minutes' 
waiting,  in  they  came,  three  tall  men,  with  their  hats 
on.  The  third  had  been  sent  to  accompany  them, 
and  to  see  they  behaved  properly.  One  of  them  had 
a  good  deal  to  say ;  and  very  good  advice  he  gave  on 
the  necessity  of  being  prepared  for  death,  which  is  sure 
to  come  upon  each  of  us,  and  the  miserable  state  of 
those  who  put  off  till  that  fearful  hour,  the  most  im- 
portant occupation  an  immortal  being  could  have,  the 
salvation  of  the  never-dying  soul.  He  said  he  be- 
lieved there  were  some  present  who  would  be  called 
on,  before  the  present  year  had  circled  its  close,  to 
give  an  account  of  the  deeds  done  in  the  body.  He 
warned  us,  that  the  time  might  come  when  the  cup  of 
salvation,  if  refused  now,  might  not  be  attainable; 
and  concluded  with  the  words — "A  Saviour,  or  I 
die  !  a  Redeemer,  or  I  perish  for  ever  !" 

The  other  had  a  good  deal  also  to  say ;  but  it  was 
more  for  the  relief  of  his  own  mind  than  for  the  edi- 
fication of  ours. 

On  this  evening  there  was  no  Meeting  held,  as  so 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETia. 


141 


many  of  the  Friends  were  appointed  on  the  Commit- 
tees. For  each  epistle  there  were  about  half  a  dozen 
women  selected.  I  was  curious  to  know  how  they 
managed  to  compose  them ;  and  after  a  good  deal  of 
coaxing  I  prevailed  on  one  of  the  initiated  to  tell  me. 
Each  one  wrote  out  a  sentence,  in  accordance  with 
the  epistle  they  were  replying  to,  and  from  a  senti- 
ment contained  in  the  Book  of  Discipline :  so  worded, 
however,  as  to  appear  different.  The  plainest  and 
most  orthodox  of  the  six  sisters,  was  appointed  a 
kind  of  president,  and  it  fell  to  her  lot  to  combine 
the  different  sentences  into  one  connected  whole. 
There  is  not  much  in  any  of  them,  and  the  beginning 
and  ending  is  always  the  same — acknowledging  the 
receipt  and  acceptability  of  that  before  them,  and 
concluding  with  thankfulness  for  the  favoured  Meet- 
ing now  sitting,  and  the  visits  of  so  many  ministers, 
and  then  the  salutation  of  love. 

A  friend  of  mine  once  tried  to  bring  into  the  epistle, 
in  her  sentence,  the  idea,  that,  as  sinful  creatures, 
we  were  hopelessly  lost  in  ourselves,  and  needed  the 
atoning  blood  of  the  Lord  Jesus  to  cleanse  us.  The 
others  said,  that  was  very  beautiful ;  but  it  was  not 
usual  to  depart  from  the  phraseology  which  had  been 
approved  of ;  and  the  president  put  it  aside  at  once, 
decidedly,  by  saying,  it  savoured  of  new-lightism. 

Our  dinner  party  to-day  was  at  the  house  of  a  very 
wealthy  Friend.  Plain  as  plain  could  be,  he  was ; 
and  his  wife  a  model  of  Quakerism.  Every  thing  in 
the  house  was  drab,  but  of  the  finest  and  most  costly 


142 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


texture.  The  drawing-room  hearth  rug,  I  was  told, 
had  cost  twenty  pounds.  We  were  fifteen  at  dinner, 
and  had  to  thank  Sarah  Castle  again  for  the  plain 
fare.  The  eldest  son  of  the  family,  a  boy  about  ten 
years  old,  w^as  very  communicative  with  me.  "  Was 
not  that  a  horrid  dinner,"  said  he  ;  "I  wonder  thee 
could  eat  it  ?  Only  for  the  red  round,  we  would  be 
all  starved.  Mamma  says  she  can't  stand  it  any 
longer ;  so  she  won't  ask  any  Friends  for  to-morrow, 
and  then  we  will  have  chickens  and  asparagus." 

Wherever  we  went,  we  met  the  "red  round;"  I 
remarked  on  the  subject,  to  my  friend,  Jane  Grey. 
"  Ah  !"  said  she,  "it  is  easy  to  see  thee  is  not  much 
used  to  Yearly  Meetings.  Every  house  that  intends 
to  see  company,  has  a  "red  round"  prepared.  It  is  a 
very  good  dish ;  shall  I  give  thee  the  receipt  for 
making  it?"  "Pray  do,"  said  I.  The  next  day, 
soon  after  I  had  taken  my  seat  in  the  Meeting,  I  felt 
a  gentle  hand  on  my  shoulder,  and  looking  round, 
saw  Jane,  with  a  comical  smile,  handing  me  a  folded 
paper,  containing  the  promised  receipt.  "Read  it," 
she  whispered  ;  "  it  contains  food  for  meditation."  It 
was  as  follows  : — 

"  The  Dublin  Yearly  Meeting's  receipt  for  making 
a  '  Cut  and  Come  again  red  round.' 

"  Take  a  prime  round  of  beef ;  bone  it,  and  close 
the  hole;  tie  a  tape  round  it,  to  keep  it  firm.  Take 
four  ounces  of  saltpetre  pounded,  and  rub  it  well  with 
it ;  let  it  lie  for  two  or  three  days ;  then  rub  it  highly 
with  salt ;  then  let  it  lie  for  ten  days ;  drain  most  of 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


143 


the  liquor  off.  Take  half  an  ounce  of  cloves  powdered, 
the  same  of  mace,  one  ounce  of  pepper,  one  nutmeg 
powdered,  and  rub  the  beef  well  with  these.  Then 
take  half  a  pound  of  suet,  and  flatten  it  with  a  rolling 
pin ;  put  it  under  and  over  the  beef  in  a  crock ;  lay  a 
sheet  of  whitej-brown  paper  over  the  meat ;  then  cover 
it  with  a  plate,  and  bake  it  for  four  or  five  hours." 

We  had  three  more  sittings  of  the  Meeting ;  and 
in  them  the  business  of  finishing  the  queries,  and 
reading  the  prepared  epistles,  and  signing  them  with 
the  clerk's  name  on  behalf  of  the  rest  of  us,  was  got 
through.  Besides  this,  we  had  two  lengthy  testi- 
monies for  dead  Friends  read  aloud,  in  which  the 
departed  w^ere  described  as  having  attained  to  that 
perfection  which  the  Society  holds  the  doctrine  of. 
There  was  a  great  deal  more  preaching,  in  the  same 
different  styles  that  I  have  described ;  and  then  the 
conclusion,  in  which  solemn  thanks  were  recorded  to 
the  Divine  Head,  for  the  manifestations  of  continued 
love,  which  had  been  vouchsafed  to  us  in  the  minis- 
trations of  so  many  of  our  beloved  Friends  from  an- 
other land,  and  in  the  love  with  which  the  weighty 
business  of  the  Yearly  Meeting  had  been  conducted. 

The  next  day,  First  day,  we  had  very  copious  preach- 
ing. Even  Sarah  Black,  and  Anne  Butt,  who  had  been 
thrown  quite  in  the  shade  by  the  brightness  of  the 
English  luminaries,  essayed  each  a  sermon — ''a  few 
broken  words,"  as  they  said  themselves. 

It  was  a  very  pleasant  Meeting;  we  renewed  old 
acquaintances,  and  made  several  new  ones.    We  got 


144 


DUBLIN  YEARLY  MEETING. 


very  good  advice  on  many  occasions,  and  on  several 
subjects ;  and  found  the  Friends,  despite  of  all  their 
oddities,  most  friendly,  good-humoured,  hospitable — 
(as  soon  as  ever  the  Meeting  was  over,  the  good  din- 
ners began  again) — and  light-hearted.  The  world  goes 
well  with  them,  and  they  stand  well  with  the  world. 
But  religion,  saving  religion — alas!  alas!  that  it 
should  be  so — is  smothered  under  the  load  of  co-ope- 
rations which  the  doctrines  of  the  Society  inculcate. 


RETURN  HOME. 


145 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Public  Meeting  at  Enniscorthy — Scene  at  the  Inn  there — The  great 
Friends  visit  our  city — Establish  a  Ladies'  Society — Government 
interferes  to  prevent  visiting  the  Gaols — Quaker  scruples — Difficulty 
of  being  consistent. 

The  Yearly  Meeting  ended,  and  our  own  private 
business  in  Dublin  transacted,  we  returned  borne 
tbrougb  the  county  Wicklow,  for  the  purpose  of  see- 
ing the  far-famed  Vale  of  Avoca,  and  the  exquisitely 
beautiful  scenery  of  that  unrivalled  county,  with  the 
many  objects  of  interest  it  contains. 

We  travelled  in  a  post-chaise,  and  such  a  chaise 
it  was  as  Maria  Edgeworth's  pen  describes.  Three 
times  we  broke  down  on  the  road;  and  once  the 
horses,  or  rather  the  animals  they  called  horses,  fell 
and  rolled  over.  However,  as  we  were  all  unhurt, 
and  the  day  very  fine,  and  the  road  so  very  lovely, 
for  my  part,  I  rather  enjoyed  the  accidents.  It  gave 
me  time  to  climb  up  the  hills,  and  to  obtain  a  view  of 
the  far-off  sea  and  the  cloud-capped  mountains,  which, 
with  the  highly  cultivated,  and  well-wooded  fore- 
ground, formed  a  landscape  replete  with  life,  and 
teeming  with  plenty,  such  as  compels  a  frail  mortal  to 
bow  his  head  in  marvellous  adoration  of  the  goodness 
13 


146 


VINEGAR  HILL. 


and  power  of  the  Almighty  Creator  of  so  magnificent 
a  scene. 

At  length  we  arrived  at  Enniscorthy  late  at  night, 
and  the  following  morning,  after  an  early  breakfast, 
and  ordering  a  chaise  to  be  ready  the  moment  it  was 
called  for,  we  went  out  to  take  a  walk,  and  see  that 
spot  of  hateful  notoriety.  Vinegar  Hill.  A  respect- 
able-looking old  man,  with  a  spade  on  his  shoulder, 
seeing  us  looking  towards  the  hill,  accosted  us  with 
the  usual  "God  save  you."  My  father  returned  his 
greeting,  and  entered  into  conversation  with  him.  He 
told  us  of  the  dreadful  scene.  He  had  himself  been 
in  the  rebel  camp.  It  was  an  ease  to  his  mind  to  talk 
of  it,  even  now,  after  so  many  years  had  passed.  He 
said,  the  screams  and  shrieks  of  the  unhappy  victims 
still  sounded  in  his  ears,  and  that,  night  and  day,  they 
were  ever  before  his  eyes.  "And  yet,"  he  added,  "I 
could  not  help  it.  I  was  driven  into  it.  Our  own 
priest  was  in  it,  and  he  made  me  and  a  whole  lot  of 
us  go  with  him.  You  are  a  priest,  sir,"  said  he,  mis- 
taking my  father's  dress.  "  Tell  me,  for  God's  sake, 
wont  the  blame  of  it  be  on  him  that  drove  us  into  it?" 
Smarting  under  the  lash  of  an  accusing  conscience, 
which  for  thirty  years  had  embittered  every  joy  of 
life,  and  marvelling  at  the  confession  of  it  being  made 
to  total  strangers,  we  left  him,  but  not  before  my 
father  had  admonished  him  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come,  and  to  cast  himself  and  his  sorrows  on  the 
mercy  of  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord. 

On  returning  to  the  hotel,  we  found  the  English 


PUBLIC  MEETIXG  AT  EXXISCORTHY.  147 


Friends  had  arrived  there,  and  were  about  to  hold  a 
public  meeting.  They  had  two  or  three  young  men  in 
their  'train,  and  these  were  sent  through  the  town, 
distributing  printed  papers  which  they  had  brought 
from  Dublin,  inviting  the  inhabitants,  rich  and  poor, 
high  and  low,  to  attend  the  Meeting,  which  was  to  be 
held  in  about  an  hour,  in  a  large  room  hurriedly  fitted 
up  for  the  occasion. 

We  resolved  to  delay  oui'  departure,  and  to  avail 
ourselves  of  the  opportunity  of  again  hearing  those 
celebrated  Friends'  preaching. 

There  were  about  two  hundi'ed  people  who  came  to 
the  Meeting.  Not  being  accustomed  to  sitting  down 
in  silence,  it  was  no  wonder  they  could  not  understand 
its  being  necessary  to  do  so ;  and  John  Earl  at  last 
rose  up  on  the  platform,  and  explained  the  necessity 
for  silence  being  observed.  "Whilst  he  was  speaking, 
they  were  quiet,  but  as  soon  as  he  ceased  the  chatter 
beoran  ao^ain. 

"What  did  they  bring  us  here  for?"  said  one. 

"Faix  I  don't  know,"  was  the  answer.  "Maybe 
the  decent  people  are  going  to  treat  us  genteelly." 

"  Whist  with  you,"  called  out  a  loud  voice  ;  "Didn't 
the  gentleman  tell  you  to  sit  quiet,  like  the  Quakers 
themselves.  Ye'll  give  a  bad  impression  to  the  stran- 
gers, I'm  thinking,  in  regard  of  politeness." 

"  And  isn't  it  yourself  is  making  the  noise  now  ?" 
said  another. 

"  Arrah,  now,  isn't  that  too  bad?  and  I  only  teach- 
ing you  manners,"  he  answered. 


148  PUBLIC  MEETING  AT  ENNISCORTHY. 


After  repeated  efforts  to  obtain  silence  in  vain,  one 
of  the  women  Friends  rose  up,  and  in  her  soft,  sweet 
voice,  addressed  them  on  the  value  of  the  soul,  and 
the  need  of  a  Saviour,  the  uncertainty  of  life,  and  the 
value  of  the  Bible.  When  she  resumed  her  seat,  I 
was  just  wondering  whether  the  Quaker  phraseology, 
in  which  her  ideas  were  shrouded,  would  be  under- 
stood by  such  an  assembly,  when  I  heard  a  voice  close 
by  me  audibly  whispering — 

"She  is  a  fine  portly  women,  God  bless  her.  I 
wish  somebody  would  insense  me  into  the  meaning  of 
what  she  was  trying  to  say." 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  said  another  voice.  "The  decent 
woman  says  she  has  her  eye  on  you,  and  that  you  are 
a  big  blackguard,  and  that  you  are  going  hot-foot  to 
hell ;  and  she  does  be  crying  her  eyes  out  about  you 
and  two  or  three  other  boys  that's  going  the  same 
way." 

"  Oh  !  then,"  answered  the  first  speaker,  "isn't  she 
a  knowledgeable  creature  ?  She  knows  more  about  me 
than  ever  I  knew  about  myself.  You  are  clever  at  the 
talk,  Tom — will  you  go  and  tell  her  I'm  obliged  for 
the  good  opinion  she  has  of  me?  And  tell  her  she 
need  not  be  troubling  herself  about  me,  for  Father 
Kelly  is  my  own  first  cousin ;  and  if  I  am  sent  there 
itself,  he  is  the  boy  will  get  me  out  cheap." 

The  other  two  Friends  also  preached.  Excellent 
good  advice  they  gave ;  but  the  multitude  of  words 
employed  were  only  suited  to  those  who  are  initiated 
into  the  manner  of  Quakerism.    To  the  assembled 


SCENE  AT  THE  IXN. 


149 


auditory  there,  they  might  as  well  have  spoken  in 
Greek. 

When  little  Elizabeth  had  spoken  with  much  energy 
of  manner,  I  overheard  the  comment  on  her. 

"  Go  it,  little  one ;  hut  you  are  a  great  game  hen, 
for  all  you  are  so  weenshe.  You  got  it  out  very  brave ; 
and  I'll  give  you  my  blessing,  for  you  meant  to  be 
kind,  I  see,  only  you  have  a  queer  way  of  showing  it." 

I  have  been  at  several  public  meetings.  Those 
held  in  barns  and  large  rooms  are  generally  much  the 
same  in  point  of  solemnity  as  this  was ;  those  held  in 
Friends'  Meeting-houses  are  more  quiet  and  orderly. 

Our  chaise  was  at  the  door,  trunks  were  packed  on 
it,  and  we  were  taking  a  snack  dinner,  when  we  heard 
a  loud  altercation  under  the  windows. 

The  English  Friend  had  ordered  the  horses  to  be 
taken  from  our  carriage  and  put  to  his.  He  travelled 
with  four,  and  the  number  he  required  was  not  to  be 
had ;  so,  without  any  ceremony,  he  was  for  taking 
ours.  One  of  the  helpers,  who  happened  to  know  us, 
objected  to  obey  the  order ;  and  blustering  very  loudly, 
declared  he  would  not  "stand  by  and  see  the  English- 
er  lord  it  over  the  real  gentry  that  a-way."  We  ran 
to  the  window  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  soon 
perceived  how  the  case  was.  "  Oh!"  said  my  dear 
father,  "we  shall  have  to  remain  in  this  wretched 
place  another  night." 

"  And  will  thee  tamely  yield  to  such  unheard-of 
impertinence  ?"  said  my  sister. 

"  Why,"  he  replied,  "how  can  we  help  it  ?  I  did 
13* 


150 


SCENE  AT  THE  INN. 


not  think  any  Friend  would  do  such  a  thing ;  but  as 
he  has,  of  course  we  must  yield." 

"  Of  course,  no  such  thing,"  she  said.  "  Do  thee 
sit  quietly  here,  and  do  not  even  show  thyself  at  the 
window,  and  I  shall  go  down  and  manage  him.". 

I  was  not  restricted  from  looking  out,  and  enjoyed 
the  scene  below  with  interest.  Ellen  appeared  pre- 
sently, and  demanded.  "  What  are  you  taking  the 
horses  off  the  carriage  for  ?"  "  'Tis  the  English  gen- 
tleman, ma'am,"  said  our  acquaintance,  the  helper, 
"  He  says  his  sister  can't  travel  without  four ;  and 
when  I  told  him,  first  come  first  served,  and  that  the 
master  himself  owned  this  pair,  he  said,  ^  they  are  a 
better  pair  of  horses  than  those  you  are  putting  to  my 
coach,  and  I  must  have  them  for  wheelers  ;'  and  more 
than  that  he  said.  Miss,  that  yee's  might  stay  here 
till  to-morrow,  but  that  it  was  of  consequence  for  him 
and  his  sister  to  get  on  their  journey." 

John  Earl  then  came  forward,  smiling,  though  some- 
what rufiled  by  the  unusual  occurrence  of  any  one 
daring  to  dispute  his  orders. 

"Wilt  thou  please  desire  this  man  to  put  those 
horses  immediately  to  our  coach  ?  He  has  refused  to 
do  so  without  thy  father's  orders.  Wilt  thou  give 
directions,  for  my  sister  is  already  annoyed  by  this 
delay  ?  Our  carriage  is  heavy,  and  we  cannot  get  on 
without  four." 

"Oh!"  she  answered,  "you  cannot  have  ours;  but 
cannot  you  give  a  few  shillings  to  one  of  these  men, 
and  he  will  go  to  the  fields  and  get  horses  in  for  you?" 


SCENE  AT  THE  IXX. 


151 


Then  turning  to  the  grooms,  "  Be  quick,  and  fasten 
all  right  again.  How  dare  you  unharness  our  horses 
for  any  one  ?  Be  quick,  I  say."  And  quickly  indeed 
that  order  was  obeyed  by  the  grinning  men.  But 
Friend  John  was  not  content.  "  I  will  go  speak  to 
thy  father,"  said  he,  "I  am  sm-e  he  will  not  refuse  to 
accommodate  my  sister."  She  laid  her  hand  gently, 
but  firmly  on  his  arm,  and  said,  I  cannot  allow  thee 
to  disturb  my  father  now ;  he  is  at  his  dinner.  Those 
horses  are  mine,  thou  canst  not  have  them."  "But 
I  must ;"  said  he,  "I  have  no  alternative,  for  Ave  can- 
not get  on  without  them."  She  tmmed  to  the  grooms, 
"Do  not  let  my  carriage  be  disturbed  again,"  she 
said.  "  Never  fear,  Miss,  never  fear,"  they  answered, 
"we'll  fight  for  you.  The  Englishman  shan't  rough- 
ride  it  over  you,  that  a-way,  and  we  to  the  fore." 

My  sister  then  turned  again  to  Friend  John,  and 
said,  "Is  not  the  scenery  of  the  County  Wicklow, 
through  which  you  passed,  very  lovely  ?  The  joui-ney 
before  us  is  not  so  interesting.  I  hope  we  shall  see 
you  soon  in  our  neighborhood,  and  that  you  will  ar- 
range to  dine  with  us.  Fix  the  day  and  hoiu'  to  suit 
your  own  convenience,  and  we][will  invite  a  large 
company  to  meet  you.  Farewell;"  and  she  glided 
away  without  gi^^ing  him  time  to  reply. 

We  saw  no  more  of  our  Friend  John  at  Enniscorthy. 
He  was  not  visible  when  we  started,  but  his  great 
heavy  coach  and  pair  of  horses  were  in  attendance. 

The  groom,  as  we  got  into  ours,  put  his  head  into 
the  window  and  said,  "Say  the  word  now.  Miss,  and 


152 


GREAT  FRIENDS  VISIT  OUR  CITY. 


I'll  tackle  them  garrons  of  his  on  for  leaders,  in  a 
jiffj.  Will  I  Miss,  alanna  ?"  "  Oh  !  no;  and  off  we 
drove,  my  father,  dear  man,  afraid  to  ask  how  the 
matter  had  been  arranged,  glad  that  it  was  so,  but 
quite  fearful  the  Friends  might  be  offended. 

A  few  days  after,  these  same  Friends  arrived  in  our 
city,  and  lodged  with  my  uncle.  They  arrived  on  a 
seventh  day  afternoon.  Their  intended  visit  had  been 
announced,  and  every  preparation  made,  that  the 
kindest  hospitality  could  devise,  to  give  them  a  cordial 
Irish  welcome.  My  uncle  was  a  widower,  and  al- 
though his  housekeeper  was  a  clever  young  woman, 
and  well  skilled  in  the  culinary  department,  still  he 
felt  greatly  burthened  with  the  honor  which  had  been 
conferred  upon  him,  in  having  to  entertain  these  great 
Friends.  At  his  request  my  mother  had  been  all 
over  his  house,  to  see  that  the  accommodation  provided 
for  them  was  suitable.  Beds  of  the  softest  down,  and 
sheets  of  the  finest  Irish  linen,  were  prepared  for  them ; 
and  a  double-bedded  room  for  the  two  young  men, 
whom  they  were  in  the  habit  of  taking  about  to  swell 
their  train,  and  run  of  their  messages. 

About  seven  o'clock  that  evening,  we  saw  my  uncle 
hastening  up  our  lawn ;  and,  knowing  from  his  manner, 
that  something  had  occurred  to  ruffle  him,  my  mother 
went  to  meet  him.  "  Oh !"  said  he,  "  what  shall  I  do ; 
after  all,  I  have  not  got  things  right  for  the  Friends, 
and  I  am  come  to  thee  to  help  me.  They  cannot  drink 
anything  but  London  porter,  and  Elizabeth  has  called 
for  calf'a-foot  jelly.    T  sent  to  all  the  confectioners' 


GREAT  FRIENDS  VISIT  OUR  CITY. 


153 


shops,  but  there  was  none  to  be  bad ;  and  Debbj  is 
kept  running  about  waiting  on  tbem,  so  that  she  could 
not  make  it ;  and,  beside  that,  the  butchers  have  not 
got  any  calves'  feet.  I  sent  round  to  them  all  to  try. 
Friend  John  says  he  is  quite  distressed  on  account  of 
his  sister,  as  she  requires  those  things,  and  that  they 
quite  expected  to  have  them  at  my  house,  which  makes 
the  disappointment  greater  to  them  now." 

"Could  thee  get  pigs'  feet?"  said  my  mother. 

"  Oh,  yes,  in  plenty." 

"  Well  then,  send  me  two  sets  of  them,  and  I'll  make 
jelly ;  she  will  never  know  the  difference.  Thee  shall 
have  it  by  ten  o'clock  to-morrow,  and  I  would  advise 
thee  to  tell  the  young  men,  and  they  will  manage  the 
porter  for  thee." 

He  took  my  sister  home  with  him  to  make  tea  for 
the  Friends,  and  she  told  us  she  had  a  very  pleasant 
evening.  They  were  chatty,  and  communicated  much 
that  was  interesting,  about  the  plans  formed  in  Lon- 
don for  ameliorating  the  condition  of  the  poor,  and 
encom-aging  women  in  industry  and  cleanly  habits. 
Indeed  it  was  to  form  a  Ladies'  Association  for  this 
^  purpose,  that  Elizabeth  visited  oui'  city.  She  suc- 
ceeded in  doing  so,  and  in  forming  another  Society 
for  ladies  to  visit  the  prisons,  and  read  the  Bible  to 
the  prisoners. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  before  the  pigs'  feet  came,  and 
then  we  set  to  work  to  manufactm-e  them  into  jelly. 
My  mother  sat  up  all  night,  and  had  her  task  accom- 
plished by  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  it  was 


154 


ENGLISH  FRIENDS. 


sent  down  in  a  large  cut  glass  dish ;  and  she  had  soon 
after,  the  pleasure  of  hearing  that  the  English  Friends 
said  it  was  the  nicest  calf's-foot  jelly  they  had  ever 
tasted. 

This  was  now  first  day ;  the  Friends  were  to  dine 
with  us  at  three  o'clock,  and  to  have  a  Meeting  at 
seven,  to  which  the  town's-people  were  invited. 

A  dozen  of  our  acquaintances  were  invited  to  meet 
the  Friends  at  dinner ;  and  it  fell  to  my  lot  to  stay 
from  the  Morning  Meeting,  in  order  to  attend  to  the 
needful  arrangement  of  this  repast,  which  was  as 
choice  and  abundant  as  could  be  provided  on  so  short 
a  notice.  My  sister  had  brought  us  word  the  night 
before,  of  the  honor  intended  for  us. 

The  Meeting  was  over  at  twelve,  as  usual ;  and  at 
half-past  two,  up  drove  the  well-known  coach,  with 
its  important  burden.  The  ladies  were  soon  seated 
in  the  drawing-room,  the  gentlemen  strolled  into  the 
garden,  and  the  other  guests  dropped  in  one  after 
another.  Scarcely  had  the  clock  struck  three,  when 
Friend  John  said  to  my  mother,  "Three,  I  think,  is 
the  hour  for  dinner  ;  shall  I  ring  the  bell."  "  Oh !  no," 
she  replied ;  "some  of  our  friends  have  not  yet  arrived." 
He  sat  down  for  about  two  minutes,  and  then  began 
again.  "My  sister  will,  I  fear,  be  annoyed;  she  quite 
expected  dinner  would  be  ready  at  three  o'clock.  We 
English  Friends  are  accustomed  to  be  punctual  to 
time."  "Dinner  is  quite  ready  to  be  served,"  said 
my  mother ;  but  we  must  wait  a  few  minutes  for  the 
guests  we  have  invited  to  meet  you."  "  Probably  they 


ENGLISH  FRIENDS, 


155 


■will  arrive,"  lie  said,  "whilst  dinner  is  being  placed 
on  the  table.  With  thy  permission,  I  will  ring  for 
it."  And  he  rose  and  walked  across  the  room,  and 
rang  the  bell.  The  butler  entered.  "  Let  dinner  be 
served,"  he  called  out.  The  man  looked  amazed,  but 
withdrew.  I  went  down  staii'S  to  tell  my  sister  how 
the  matter  stood.  She  countermanded  the  order  ;  and 
fearing  that  the  Friends  were  hungry  and  suffering, 
called  one  of  the  ''train-young  men,"  and  told  him  to 
hand  them  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  biscuit,  to  enable 
them  to  fast  for  about  ten  minutes  longer.  "  Ah  I  said 
he,  "there  is  not  the  slightest  occasion;  as  soon  as 
ever  the  Meeting  was  over,  they  went  home,  and  called 
for  beef-steak  and  porter ;  they  all  three  eat  heartily 
of  that,  and  jelly  besides."  "Whilst  we  were  speaking, 
Friend  John  himself  joined  us  in  the  dining-room. 
"Really,"  said  he,  "I  am  annoyed.  This  want  of 
punctuality  is  very  trying.  My  sister's  convenience 
is  sadly  disregarded." 

Ellen  at  that  moment  saw  the  gentleman  we  were 
waiting  for,  entering  the  gate ;  and  at  a  quarter  after 
three.  Friend  John  and  his  sister  were  satisfying  the 
desires  of  the  inner  man  with  much  apparent  enjoy- 
ment. As  soon  as  the  cloth  had  been  removed,  and 
the  wines  and  fruits  laid  on  the  table,  the  Friends 
dropped  into  the  well-known  ominous  silence ;  and  one 
after  another  preached  a  domestic  sermon.  Then  they 
.  regaled  on  the  dessert,  and  when  satisfied,  requested 
to  be  shown  to  bed-rooms,  where  they  might  "take  a 
lay,"  to  obviate  any  tendency  to  di'owsiness  in  the 


156 


ENGLISH  FRIENDS. 


Evening  Meeting.  The  ladies  were  immediately  ac- 
commodated ;  but  we  were  somewhat  surprised,  when 
the  gentleman  required  the  same  for  himself.  His 
wants  too  were  supplied,  even  to  a  night-cap,  and  a 
shawl  to  throw  over  his  shoulders;  but  ere  he  com- 
posed himself  to  sleep,  he  gave  orders  that  tea  and 
coffee  should  be  ready  for  his  sister  at  half-past  five 
o'clock. 

It  was  made  ready  as  he  wished ;  and  then  the  three 
resumed  their  seats  on  the  sofas,  gracefully  arranging 
the  pillows  and  stools,  and  the  ample  folds  of  their 
drab  dresses  and  shawls,  so  as  to  form  a  pleasing 
tableau  vivant.  There  they  were  served  with  tea  and 
coffee ;  and  again  we  had  the  satisfaction  of  thinking 
their  appetites  were  not  impaired.  A  plate  of  bread 
and  butter,  cut,  as  we  thought,  thin,  being  handed  to 
the  little  Elizabeth,  she  helped  herself  rather  super- 
ciliously, and  then  remarked,  "Ah !  this  may  pass  with 
me;  but  certainly  it  will  not  with  my  sister."  One 
of  the  young  people  took  the  loaf  to  cut  some  thinner 
slices  for  the  important  lady;  and  whilst  doing  so, 
Friend  John  leaning  forward,  said,  "Dost  thou  not 
feel  it  a  privilege  to  be  permitted  to  cut  bread  for  my 
sister?"  We  were  all  glad  when  the  weary  day  was 
over ;  for  though  we  fully  appreciated  the  honor  of 
having  the  company,  under  our  own  roof,  of  these 
celebrated  Friends,  still  our  feelings  had  been  tried, 
by  the  manner  in  which  they  had  received  our  atten- 
tions. 

The  next  morning  the  public  Societies  were  organ- 


ENGLISH  FRIEXD:? 


157 


ized  "with  unparalleled  cleverness ;  and  rules  and  regu- 
lations given  by  Elizabeth  herself,  in  so  clear  and 
concise  a  manner,  that  there  remained  no  difficulty 
after  she  had  left,  in  carrying  on  the  system  so  ad- 
mirably set  going. 

We  met  again  at  dinner  at  my  uncle's;  he  had  a 
very  large  company  assembled  in  honour  of  his  Eng- 
lish guests.  At  Friends'  dinner  parties,  the  fish,  soup, 
and  meat  are  all  served  together  for  the  first  course. 
We  had  a  boiled  turkey  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and 
and  a  roast  loin  of  veal  at  the  foot :  the  sides  and 
centre  were  covered  with  every  variety  of  food,  di-ess- 
ed  in  the  most  appetizing  forms.  After  the  usual 
momentary  silence,  which  Friends  observe,  instead  of 
saying  grace,  when  the  covers  had  been  removed,  and 
the  viands  exposed  to  view,  Friend  John  turned  round 
to  my  uncle,  and  said,  "I  do  wish  thou  had'st  told  me 
what  was  to  be  for  dinner.  My  sister  always  likes 
turkey  to  be  roast,  and  veal  boiled.  This  is  really 
very  unfortunate."  His  sister,  who  always  looked 
greatly  pleased  when  his  care  for  her  comforts  was 
openly  shown,  said,  "Yes ;  and  it  might  so  easily  have 
been  done  right ;  however,  I  have  no  doubt,  I  shall 
be  able  to  manage."  By  this  time  we  had  been  some- 
what accustomed  to  their  oddities ;  and  having  often 
heard  that  the  English  Friends  were  great  boors,  we 
rather  watched  for  these  developments,  and  laughed 
at  them. 

When  the  Friends  had  satisfied  their  appetites,  they 
retired  "to  take  a  lay,"  ordering  tea,  as  with  us  the 
14 


158 


ENGLISH  FRIENDS. 


day  before  ;  for  there  was  to  be  another  public  Meet- 
ing this  evening  at  seven  o'clock.  The  tea  passed  over 
without  any  thing  particular ;  but  as  soon  as  the  great 
lady  had  finished,  she  dropped  into  silence.  The  rest 
of  the  company  having  only  just  commenced,  no  notice 
was  taken  of  her ;  so  she  rose  silently,  and  with  a 
stately  step  walked  into  the  adjoining  room,  assisted 
by  her  brother's  arm,  and  two  or  three  following,  to 
proffer  any  required  service.  They  soon  returned,  and 
said,  the  dear  Friend  was  under  a  concern  to  speak  to 
my  sisters  and  myself,  apart  from  the  rest  of  the 
company.  We  had  been  pouring  out  tea  for  them, 
and  had  'not  tasted  any  ourselves ;  but  though  my 
uncle  was  distressed,  that  we  should  be  deprived  of 
what  all  the  others  were  enjoying,  it  did  not  trouble  us 
much,  and  we  hastened  in  to  the  great  Friend,  whom 
we  found  on  the  sofa,  as  usual,  in  a  graceful  attitude. 
She  motioned  to  each  of  us  where  to  seat  ourselves ; 
one  to  an  arm-chair,  on  which  her  arm  carelessly 
reposed ;  another  to  a  spare  morsel  of  the  sofa  on 
which  she  reclined,  and  me  to  a  footstool  close  beside 
her.  After  a  momentary  pause,  she  addressed  us  in 
a  kind  of  familiar  preaching,  and  in  a  low  musical 
voice.  She  said,  we  were  a  lovely  and  most  interest- 
ing trio ;  she  did  not  blame  us  for  our  dress  being 
somewhat  smarter  than  that  of  most  young  Friends ; 
for  she  had  herself  loved  dress  with  an  exceeding 
love.  The  time  was  long  past  now,  but  there  had 
been  a  time,  when  she  had  revelled  in  all  the  gay 
seductions  of  fashionable  life.    She  had  frequented 


ENGLISH  FRIENDS. 


159 


balls,  and  theatres,  and  concerts ;  she  had  drained 
the  cup  of  earthly  pleasure,  and  could  assure  us  that 
it  was  all  delusive ;  and  that  having  been  enabled  to 
take  up  her  cross,  and  to  surrender  to  the  requirings 
of  the  inward  monitor,  she  had  found  peace.  She  had 
thought  it  well  to  tell  us  these  things  ;  for  why  should 
we  wander  on  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  blessings  of 
hiwt'this  life,  with  which  she  observed  we  were  surrounded, 
and  not  to  be  told  they  were  fallacious  ?  She  told 
us  of  her  brother's  devotion  to  her — of  her  brother-in- 
law's  consequence  as  a  member  of  Parliament — a  good 
deal  about  the  wealth  of  her  family — of  the  happi- 
ness she  felt  in  her  own  mind  because  of  her  Quaker- 
ism, and  of  her  devotedness  to  the  service  of  the  Lord. 
When  the  address  was  ended,  she  presented  each  of 
us  with  a  tract,  in  which  her  own  name  was  WTitten, 
as  a  memento  of  her  visit  to  Ireland ;  and  said  she 
hoped,  before  long,  that  we  might  feel  a  drawing  to 
attend  the  London  Yearly  Meeting. 

These  important  Friends  did  not  remain  many  days 
in  our  city;  and  when  they  were  gone,  we  were  told 
many  anecdotes  of  their  manners  and  queer  ways. 
My  uncle  told  us,  that  when  shown  to  their  rooms  the 
night  they  arrived,  they  had  felt  the  beds,  as  if  they 
were  at  a  doubtful  inn ;  asked  were  the  sheets  clean, 
and  desired  to  be  shown  what  other  rooms  were  in 
.  the  house,  that  they  might  choose  which  they  would 
.  prefer.  One  of  the  ladies  selected  my  uncle's  own 
room  for  herself,  and  ordered  her  trunks  to  be  removed 
into  it ;  and  as  nobody  seemed  to  venture  to  dispute 


160 


ENGLISH  FRIENDS. 


their  wills,  he  was  about  to  yield  to  this  whim,  when 
it  was  found  that  his  room  was  locked,  and  the  key 
not  to  be  found.  One  of  the  lads  had  overheard  the 
uncourteous  order  given,  and  determining  that  the 
kind  old  man  should  not  be  robbed  of  his  nio-ht's  rest, 
had  slipped  up  stairs,  locked  the  room,  put  the  key  in 
his  pocket,  and  walked  out  of  the  house,  not  return- 
ing till  they  had  gone  to  rest. 

In  another  place  they  honoured  an  aunt  of  mine 
with  their  company,  and  one  day  kept  dinner  waiting 
after  it  had  been  placed  on  the  table,  for  more  than  an 
hour,  whilst  they  sent  a  man  on  horseback  to  the 
town,  to  purchase  Eau  de  Cologne,  in  which  to  bathe 
their  faces,  after  the  fatigue  of  a  few  hours  drive. 
We  heard  many  such  stories  as  these.  Wherever  they 
went,  their  odd  conduct  formed  a  strange  contrast  with 
their  preaching  and  praiseworthy  endeavours  to  rouse 
the  attention  of  the  humane  to  strenuous  efforts  for 
the  benefit  of  their  fellow-creatures. 

Friends  invariably  describe  their  ministers  and  ex- 
alted members  as  beings  who  have  attained  perfec- 
tion. They  carefully  suppress  every  trait  of  charac- 
ter which  they  imagine  may  bring  contempt,  or  dis- 
grace, or  disrepute  upon  the  system  and  the  sect. 
Quaker  biography  is  a  record  of  immaculate  devotion, 
as  untrue  as  it  is  uninteresting.  Sin  and  frailty  are 
inherent  in  mortality.  You  might  as  well  expect  a 
picture  to  be  beautiful,  if  the  light  and  brilliant  fore- 
ground was  unrelieved  by  shade  and  shadow,  as  expect 
a  sinful  mortal  to  profit  by,  or  appreciate  the  example 


ladies'  society. 


161 


of  a  fellow-sinner,  who  is  represented  as  freed  from 
those  imperfections  which  we  all  know  and  feel  to  be 
inseparable  from  humanity. 

It  is  a  great  comfort  to  the  soul  which  is  battling 
with  temptations  to  know,  that  the  best  men  who  ever 
breathed  the  breath  of  this  life,  have  been  overtaken 
by  them ;  and  the  exquisitely  pathetic  stories  recorded 
by  sacred  writers  of  their  fall,  and  of  the  compassion- 
ate mercy  which  again  raised  them  up,  and  kept 
them  until  the  end,  is  so  corroborative  of  the  Chris- 
tian's own  experience,  that  he  derives  hope  from  the 
darkest  trials,  and  looking  on  them  as  having  been, 
like  himself,  deeply  dyed  in  sin,  like  them,  too,  he 
hastens  to  wash,  and  make  himself  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb. 

My  mother  entered  with  much  spirit  and  energy 
into  the  management  of  the  Ladies'  Societies  now 
formed  in  oui'  city.  One  large  district  was  allotted 
to  her  and  six  other  ladies.  They,  however,  soon  fell 
off,  and  the  whole  care  devolved  on  her,  and  I  was 
her  assistant.  Several  hundred  poor  women  were 
employed  in  manufacturing  flax  and  wool.  Their 
houses  were  whitewashed,  and  frequent  visits  paid 
them.  Xo  religious  instruction  was  allowed  to  be 
given ;  and,  therefore,  I  have  no  doubt  it  was,  that 
after  several  years  of  most  arduous  endeavours  to 
a  improve  their  condition,  no  benefit  was  found  to  re- 
sult from  them.  God  was  not  honoured,  and,  there- 
fore. His  blessing  was  not  on  our  work. 

Once  a  month,  a  Committee,  composed  of  all  the 
14* 


162 


VISITING  GAOLS. 


ladies  from  all  the  districts,  was  held.  They  were  of 
all  creeds  and  sects.  The  Bishop's  lady  generally 
presided.  Friend  Elizabeth's  views  were  carried  out 
to  the  letter.  No  pains,  no  trouble  was  spared ; 
every  thing  that  could  be  devised  was  strenuously 
done,  '^to  promote  the  temporal  benefit  of  the  poor. 
Alas !  it  was  all  in  vain.  I  do  not  believe  that  one 
single  individual  was  raised  in  the  moral  scale  by  all 
our  efforts. 

In  the  Society  for  visiting  the  gaols,  and  reading 
the  Scriptures  to  the  prisoners,  we  had  far  more  com- 
fort. The  result  of  our  labours  there  may  not  be 
revealed  until  the  Judgment  Day.  What  was  done 
was  certainly  a  step  in  the  right  direction.  Both  the 
women  and  men  to  whom  we  read  seemed  greatly 
pleased  and  interested  in  what  was  to  them  a  great 
novelty — the  simple  word  of  Scripture.  Anty  Whe- 
lan,  who  had  perjured  herself  in  her  defeated  attempt 
to  ruin  my  dear  brother,  was  one  of  my  daily  audi- 
tors ;  and  I  have  seen  the  tears  course  each  other 
down  her  cheek,  and  beheld  the  glistening  eyes  of 
many  others,  as  they  listened  to  the  tale  of  Jesus' 
love  to  man.  Several  of  the  prisoners  being  unable 
to  comprehend  the  English  language,  one  other  lady, 
a  Quakeress,  and  myself,  learned  Irish  sufficiently 
well  to  be  able  to  read  the  Testament  to  them.  But 
our  work  here,  too,  was  but  short-lived.  The  Roman 
Catholic  Priests  made  a  complaint  to  the  Government 
that  we  were  proselytizing,  and  an  order  was  forth- 
with issued,  prohibiting  us  from  visiting  the  gaols. 


QUAKER  SCRUPLES. 


163 


We  mcurred  censure  in  another  quarter  also.  The 
overseers  of  our  Meeting  visited,  and  remonstrated  with 
us  on  the  great  danger  which,  they  said,  we  incurred, 
in  mixing  with  "people  of  the  world,"  under  the  spe- 
cious idea  that  we  were  doing  good  to  our  fellow- 
creatures.    They  said,  that  "  Friends  had  best  stay 
quietly  away  from  mixing  up."    They  said,  "  It  was 
not  becoming  for  my  mother,  the  head  of  a  large  fa- 
mily, to  sit  in  a  Committee  by  the  side  of  the  Bishop's 
wife :  that  to  countenance  her,  in  any  way  at  all,  was 
indirectly  to  countenance  the  hireling  ministry  of  her 
husband ;  and  they  wondered  greatly  that  a  Friend 
could  so  far  deviate  from  the  principles  of  our  Society 
as  to  do  so."    Besides  this  they  said,  "  There  was  a 
great  snare  to  young  people,  in  looking  on  the  gay 
dresses  of  those  worldlings  who  attended  the  Ladies' 
Committees,  and  that  my  mother  had  much  to  answer 
for,  in  exposing  her  daughter  to  such  a  temptation." 
And  then  they  reminded  us,  "That  it  was  impossible 
for  us  to  be  consistent,  and  sit  quietly  by  while  the 
Bishop's  wife  would  open  the  Committee,  by  saying, 
'  Ladies  met,  May  13,  1827.'    Surely  it  was  a  for- 
saking of  our  testimony  against  the  heathen  names  of 
the  days  and  months  of  the  year."    And  another 
reason  why  they  warned  us  to  give  up  these  associa- 
tions was,  that  "  Evil  communications  corrupt  good 
manners;"  and  sometimes  Friends  were  so  led  away 
as  to  forget  themselves,  and  adopt  the  language  of 
the  world.    It  was  a  very  deplorable  truth,  that  now- 
a-days  our  young  people  were  becoming  unguarded. 


164 


QUAKER  SCRUPLES. 


It  was  no  Tincommon  thing  to  hear  them  say  you," 
and  ^' ma'am;"  and  the  heads  of  families  would  do 
well  to  consider  were  they  guiltless  in  this  matter, 
especially  when  they  themselves  countenanced  the 
young,  in  associating  with  those  by  whom  they  were 
so  liable  to  be  betrayed  into  a  forgetfulness  of  our 
Christian  peculiarities." 

We  had  to  endure  very  many  of  these  visits.  They 
threatened  to  bring  us  under  dealing  for  this  matter, 
but  did  not.  We  gave  them,  as  usual,  cake  and  wine, 
and  were  most  civil  and  condescending ;  and  then,  as 
the  Friend  who  established  those  Societies  was  herself 
a  preacher  in  good  esteem  in  London,  they  were  fear- 
ful of  overstraining  the  discipline,  although  they  took 
good  care  to  tell  us  that  there  were  many  points  in 
which  they  did  not  feel  full  unity  with  her. 

Some  of  us  knew  well,  that  even  the  great  Elizabeth 
was  not  sufficiently  orthodox  to  please  our  plain 
Friends.  It  had  been  whispered  about  as  a  great 
secret,  even  during  the  Dublin  Meeting,  that  the 
overseers  had  visited  her  on  the  impropriety  of  wear- 
ing a  silk  gown,  the  Irish  women  preachers  having 
hitherto  refrained  from  silk.  Hairbine,  stuff,  and 
Irish  tabinet,  were  their  approved  materials  for  dress. 
Now,  however,  this  is  altered.  The  preachers  now 
wear  silk  ;  and  perhaps  few  ladies  moving  in  the  fash- 
ionable circles  of  life  can  boast  of  a  greater  number 
of  silk  dresses,  or  of  more  costly  fabric  either,  than 
they,  whose  colours,  however,  are  confined  to  either 


DIFFICULTY  OF  BEING  CONSISTENT. 


165 


drab,  or  very  dark  shades  of  i^urple,  brown,  and 
green. 

It  is  really  a  very  difficult  thing  for  a  Quaker  to 
be  consistent  with  his  own  principles ;  and  even  the 
most  rigid  are  often  found  swallowing  them  wholesale. 
For  instance,  the  vain  adorning  of  the  person  with 
dress,  jewelry,  and  gold.  He  considers  it  a  sin  to 
indulge  in  those  things,  and  yet  in  his  shop  he  sells 
them.  He  makes  his  money  by  providing  for  the  sins 
of  his  fellow-Christians.  He  deems  it  a  right  thing 
to  wear  a  broad  brim  to  his  hat,  but  he  has  no  scruple 
about  makino;  and  sellino;  hats  of  a  fashionable  form 
for  his  fellow- Christians  to  wear.  He  would  not  be 
so  wicked  as  to  dress  his  servant  up  in  livery,  with  a 
gold  band,  &c.,  but  in  the  way  of  business  he  will  do 
it  for  another.  If  the  "  peculiarities"  are  essential  to 
the  salvation  of  a  Quaker,  are  they  not  also  essential 
for  all  Christians ?  Can  it  be  that  ^'Friends"  sell 
and  deal  in  those  forbidden  things,  because  they  think 
"the  people  of  the  world"  have  no  chance  of  salva- 
tion at  all,  and  that,  therefore,  it  signifies  but  little 
w^hat  they  indulge  in,  so  that  Friends  profit  by  it  ? 


166 


LONDON  YEARLY  MEETING'. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

London  Yearly  Meeting — Various  concerns  brought  before  the  Wo- 
men's Meeting — Bible  read  in  public,  and  the  reader  sent  to  the 
Mad-house — Great  Dinner  at  Mildred  Court — Awful  Sermon — 
King  George  IV. — Frustrated  attempt  to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of 
the  Women's  Meeting. 

I  HAD  often  expressed  a  wish  to  attend  the  London 
Yearly  Meeting :  for  as  our  Quarterly  Meetings  were 
inferior  to  the  Dublin  Yearly  Meeting,  so  the  Dublin 
was  considered,  in  comparison  to  the  London.  I 
wished  very  much  to  know  how  the  affairs  of  the  So- 
ciety were  managed  in  the  great  annual  assembly,  to 
which  all  the  smaller  Meetings  were  subordinate ;  and 
my  father,  with  his  invariable  kindness,  resolved  to 
gratify  my  desire.  He  was  appointed  one  of  the  L-ish 
representatives,  so  that  my  sister  and  I,  accompany- 
ing him,  had  all  the  opportunities  which  such  good 
credentials  generally  bestow. 

We  had  a  week  only  to  prepare  for  the  journey, 
and  the  Friend  who  made  our  bonnets,  knowing  that 
she  was  of  unrivalled  skill  in  manufacturing  that  ela- 
borate costume,  and  being  withal  somewhat  crazy, 
was,  with  great  difficulty,  prevailed  on  to  have  ours 
ready  in  time.    True,  we  had  plenty  of  other  bonnets, 


LONDON  YEARLY  MEETING. 


167 


but  no  respectable  Friend  ever  goes  to  a  Meeting 
without  having,  at  least,  one  complete  suit,  quite  new. 
The  rich  plain  Friends,  generally,  have  a  different 
suit  for  every  day  the  Meeting  lasts.  They  think  it 
derogatory  to  wear  the  same  dress  two  days  consecu- 
tively. We  were  not  so  particular  ;  not  being  so  plain 
as  others,  it  did  not  signify  for  us,  but  still  going  to 
London  was  an  event  of  no  small  moment ;  and  pre- 
paration was  unsparingly  made  for  it.  We  crossed 
in  the  steam-packet  to  Milford,  and  had  on  board  one 
of  the  great  London  preachers,  and  her  daughters, 
with  two  Englishmen  Friends.  They  were  returning, 
after  attending  the  Dublin  Meeting.  We  had  no  pre- 
vious acquaintance  with  them  beyond  a  mere  formal 
introduction ;  and  as  they  were  not  remarkably  pre- 
possessing, either  in  manner  or  appearance,  we  kept 
aloof  on  the  voyage,  merely  sharing  with  them  the 
contents  of  our  well-stocked  hamper  of  eatables. 

On  arriving  at  Milford,  we  were  met  by  a  Friend, 
who,  grateful  for  some  kindness  he  had  received  at 
our  house,  where  he  had  been  carefully  attended  du- 
ring a  tedious  illness,  some  time  before,  now  hastened 
to  welcome  us,  and  had  his  car  at  the  shore  ready  to 
convey  us  to  his  house,  where  he  said,  dinner  was  pre- 
pared, and  accommodation  for  the  night,  if  we  would 
accept  it.  The  dinner  was  accepted,  but  we  wished 
to  proceed  a  few  stages  further  on. 

When  this  kind  and  hospitable  man  had  assisted 
us  to  get  our  luggage  landed,  he  proceeded  to  con- 
duct us  to  his  car,  but  Friend  Grubly,  and  her 


168 


LONDON  YEARLY  MEETING. 


daughters  had  been  before  him,  and  taken  possession 
of  it  for  themselves.  He  was  exceedingly  annoyed, 
and  told  them  they  must,  at  least,  make  room  for  us. 
They  refused  to  do  so,  and  said  they  wished  to  have 
their  trunks  beside  them.  Our  Friend,  Paul,  then 
said  to  one  of  the  daughters :  "  Wilt  thou  look  amongst 
those  trunks,  and  see  which  is  thine?"  She  got  out 
of  the  car  to  do  so,  and  immediately  Friend  Paul  ac- 
tually lifted  me  in,  shut  the  door,  and  ordered  the 
driver  to  go  on.  My  father  and  sister  had  preferred 
walking.  I  had  suffered  from  sea  sickness,  and  was 
not  well  able  to  do  so ;  but,  indeed,  my  drive  was  not 
over  pleasant,  for  my  two  companions  were  somewhat 
unamiable  towards  me,  and  loud  in  their  anger  that 
Paul  should  have  left  their  dear  Hannah  to  walk. 
However,  she  and  the  rest  of  the  party  soon  after  ar- 
rived, and  peace  was  restored  by  the  happy  good 
humour  of  Paul  and  his  wife.  Just  before  we  sat 
down  to  dinner.  Friend  Grubly  said  to  my  father, 
"Dost  thou  intend  to  proceed  towards  London  to- 
night?" He  answered  "Yes;"  and  she  then  hurried 
out  of  the  room.  An  hour  after  dinner  was  over,  the 
London  coach  drove  up  to  the  door,  and  she  said,  in 
a  triumphant  way,  "  My  daughters  and  I  have  en- 
gaged three  inside  seats  ;  two  of  you  must  travel  out- 
side, for  I  will  not  consent  to  be  crowded."  "  We 
are  not  going  by  the  coach,"  said  he;  "we  travel  post." 
"Oh!  dear,"  said  she,  "if  I  had  known  that,  I  need 
not  have  sent  the  young  man  away  from  his  dinner 
to  secure  the  places.    Thou  should'st  have  told  me." 


LONDON  YEARLY  MEETING. 


169 


TVe  had  a  delightful  jom-nev,  posting  with  four 
horses,  all  the  way  from  Milford  to  London  :  stopping 
a  few  houi'S  or  minutes  at  the  different  stages,  as  in- 
clination led  us.  In  these  rail-road  days,  nobody 
thinks  of  travelKng  by  post.  A  rapid  transit  is  now 
the  only  desideratum.  A  place  may  have  historical 
interest,  or  legendary  renown,  or  the  scenery  may 
be  transcendently  lovely,  but  who,  now-a-days,  cares 
for  such  things  ?  It  is  only  puff,  puff,  whizz,  whizz, 
and  away  with  speed  to  the  joui-ney's  end.  The 
romance  of  ti-avel  is  lost  and  gone ;  and  with  it,  man 
has  lost  one  of  the  pui'est  and  most  refined  enjoyments 
of  this  Hfe, 

The  lamps  were  lighted  when  we  entered  London. 
The  extent  amazed,  and  the  noise  confused  me  ;  the 
enormous  wagons  and  the  ponderous  horses  astonished 
me ;  and  the  long  unbroken  Hne  of  carriages  we  met 
led  me  to  think  that  the  Londoners  buried  their  dead 
in  the  evening,  and  that  these  were  the  long  funeral 
trains  we  were  so  constantly  encountering. 

A  lodging  had  been  engaged  for  us  in  Bishopsgate 
Street,  near  the  Meeting-house  in  Devonshire  Square. 

It  was  over  an  apothecary's  shop,  and  redolent  with 
all  the  abominable  smells  that  could  be  exhaled  from 
a  vast  accumulation  of  unsavory  cbugs ;  and  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night,  the  monotonous  sound  of  the 
pestle  and  mortar,  was  heard,  thump,  thump  away. 
The  Friend  who  had  taken  this  lodging  for  us,  told 
me,  that  the  smell  we  so  complained  of,  was  the  great 
recommendation  to  her  taste,  in  selecting  them  for  us. 
15 


170 


LONDON  YEARLY  MEETING. 


The  great  London  annoyances,  she  said,  disliked  the 
smell  of  an  apothecary's  shop,  as  much  as  ourselves; 
and  therefore  it  was  probable  we  might  be  able  to 
sleep  in  peace  at  nigh.  We  were  in  a  humour  to  be 
content  with  discomforts ;  to  enjoy  every  thing  that 
was  intended  to  please  us  ;  to  relish  all  that  was  novel 
or  strange ;  and,  I  may  add,  we  anticipated  that  the 
Meeting  we  had  come  so  far  to  attend,  would  prove 
of  incalculable  benefit  to  our  moral  welfare.  The 
Irish  preachers  did  not  stand  high  in  our  estimation ; 
and  we  anxiously  wished  to  hear  the  English,  of  whose 
celebrity  we  had  often  been  told. 

The  first  Meeting  we  attended  was  in  Gracechurch 
Street,  and  we  had  no  less  than  seven  sermons  in  the 
two  hours  it  lasted  ;  one  short  one  from  a  man  Friend, 
the  rest  all  women.  One  of  the  women  spoke  three 
times.  All  were  much  in  the  same  strain  ;  the  speak- 
ers' feeling  of  the  deep  importance  of  the  Yearly 
Meeting — of  the  willingness  of  the  Lord  to  own  it, 
and  of  the  necessity  for  us  all  to  be  silent  in  the  soul, 
as  well  as  in  the  body. 

After  meeting,  there  was  a  great  shaking  of  hands, 
and  greetings.  We  were  recognised  by  one  or  two, 
and  then  introduced  to  very  many,  who  kindly  invited 
us  to  their  houses,  telling  us  a  table  was  laid  at  a 
certain  hour  every  day,  and  that  we  were  welcome  to 
come  and  partake  as  often  as  we  pleased.  We  thanked 
them.  It  is  not  very  flattering  to  be  allowed  to  go 
dine  with  the  Friends,  instead  of  the  Irish  mode  of 
requesting  the  pleasure  of  our  company ;  but  there 


LONDON  YEARLY  MEETING. 


171 


was  the  charm  of  novelty  in  it  at  any  rate.  As  my 
father  had  been  more  cordially  invited  by  one  of  the 
men  Friends,  a  preacher,  we  went  with  him  and  his 
family.  They  were  very  rich  people.  A  company  of 
twenty-two  assembled — eighteen  of  us  were  females. 

The  table  laid  would  have  accommodated  more 
Friends ;  and  the  fare  provided  was  good  and  plenti- 
ful ;  but  to  our  eyes  it  looked  queer.  At  the  top  of 
the  table  was  a  fine  salmon  and  lobster  sauce  ;  near 
it,  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  was  a  dish  of  cut  bread ; 
then  the  long  stretch  was  quite  bare  to  the  very  end, 
at  which  was  placed,  as  close  as  ever  the  dishes  could 
be  to  each  other,  an  enormous  surloin  of  roast  beef, 
a  huge  round  of  boiled  beef,  a  large  Westphalian  ham, 
and  a  fine  leg  of  mutton.  The  women  were  all  at  the 
top  of  the  table,  the  men  in  a  group  at  the  bottom. 
Our  host  Cornelius,  informed  us,  that  he  had  adopted 
that  arrangement  of  his  table,  because  it  was  so  con- 
venient for  the  men  to  carve ;  and  he  liked  to  see  his 
female  Friends  sitting  in  the  upper  seats.  We  had 
no  pastry,  pudding,  or  wine.  When  the  cloth  was 
removed,  coffee  was  served  up,  and  then  we  hurried 
off  to  Meeting  again,  at  Devonshire  House.  Oh ! 
what  a  crowd  was  assembled  in  the  yard  and  hall. 
We  used  to  think  the  men  Friends  lining  the  vestibule 
in  Dublin,  to  stare  at  us,  as  we  came  in  and  out  of 
Meeting,  an  annoyance ;  but  it  was  nothing  to  com- 
pare to  the  English  men.  They  stared  and  pushed, 
and  without  any  introduction,  would  catch  hold  of 


172 


LONDON  YEARLY  MEETING. 


one's  hand,  and  shake  it,  and  ask  our  names,  with 
the  most  outrageous  rudeness. 

The  pushing  and  driving  to  get  seats  was  quite  an 
ordeal  to  get  through.  We  could  not  manage  it,  and 
were  consequently  left  standing  at  the  door.  Two 
of  our  English  acquaintances  saw  us,  and  every  day 
after,  of  the  two  weeks  the  Meeting  lasted,  they  con- 
trived to  meet  us  outside,  and  taking  us,  one  each, 
under  her  care,  regularly  fought  the  way  for  us  to 
the  foremost  and  host  seats.  At  the  second  Meet- 
ing, we  had  sermons  from  three  men,  and  no  women 
at  all — a  most  unusual  circumstance  ;  hut  so  it  was. 
The  subject  of  one  of  them  was — "  The  true  founda- 
tion, which  was  from  the  beginning  of  creation  to  the 
close  of  time,  and  which  would  lead  to  a  happy  eter- 
nity." He  enlarged  much  on  the  subject,  but  omitted 
to  mention  what  the  true  foundation  was.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  he  did  not  know ;  for  Eriends  despise  what 
they  contemptuously  term,  "head  knowledge." 

Our  Women's  meetings  for  Discipline  were  the 
same  as  in  the  Dublin  Meetings,  only  larger,  a  greater 
number  of  representatives,  from  different  places,  and 
consequently  more  answering  of  queries ;  frequent 
preachings  on  the  deficiencies  reported  in  the  obser- 
vance of  our  rules,  and  admonitions  largely  adminis- 
tered for  our  future  conformity  to  the  discipline  of 
the  Society,  which  w^e  were  often  told,  "our  worthy 
predecessors  had  been  enabled,  in  best  wisdom,  to  give 
forth." 

One  Friend  was  concerned  on  the  subject  of  Mem- 


LOXDON  YEARLY  MEETING. 


173 


bers  "deviating  from  simplicity,  hj  affixing  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  to  names,  and  thereby  opening  a  door  for  further 
departure  from  our  first  principles."  Another  "was 
impressed,"  she  told  us,  "in  a  very  remarkable  man- 
ner, with  a  yiew  of  the  wasting  and  destruction  in  our 
borders,  by  Friends  allowing  themselyes  '  latitude  in 
apparel.'  "  Five  others  also  spoke  on  the  same  sub- 
ject, and  pathetically  deplored  "the  inroad  which  the 
enemy  was  making  upon  us,  because  of  oui'  unfaith- 
fulness, and  reluctance  to  bear  this,  oui'  cross,  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world."  Two  of  these  last  orators  found 
the  burden  of  this  matter  so  heavy  on  their  minds, 
that  they  resigned  themselves  to  the  duty  of  going 
into  the  Men's  Meeting,  sitting  hard  by,  there  to  im- 
part similar  admonition. 

One  had  to  inform  us  that  the  painful  bui'den  of  her 
spirit,  was  because  of  the  deficiency  reported  in  our 
peculiar  language.  "The  thee  and  thou;  yes,  the 
thee  and  thou;  it  was  a  stumbling-block  to  many." 
And  yet  she  said,  "it  was  the  distinctive  mark,  that 
we  were  the  Lord's  people.  It  was  declared  in  Holy 
"Writ,  that  the  Lord's  called  and  peculiar  people  were 
a  little  fiock,  a  people  of  a  plain  language."  She 
dwelt  a  good  deal  on  "the  duty  of  mothers  to  enforce 
this  language  on  their  children,  and  if  need  be,  to 
chasten  the  rebellious." 

The  propriety  of  regularly  attending  Meetings  for 
both  worship  and  discipline,  was  "spoken  to;"  and 
the  advantage  which  would  result,  if  in  "the  Meetings 
for  Discipline,  Friends  would  try  to  sit  in  a  waiting 
15* 


174 


CONCEKNS  BEFORE  WOMEN'S  MEETING. 


state  of  mind ;  not  absorbed  by  the  business,  but  in 
quietness  and  stillness ;  tben  we  should  find  that  some 
amongst  us  would  be  raised  up,  and  empowered  to 
ofier,  it  might  be,  a  word  in  season." 

Another  hoped  "Friends  would  be  careful  to  regu- 
late their  domestic  avocations,  so  that  their  youth,  and 
that  important  class  amongst  them,  their  apprentices, 
might  not  be  hindered  from  duly  attending  Meetings ;" 
and  advised  that  shops  and  places  of  business  should 
be  closed  during  the  hours  of  Meeting  on  week-days, 
expressing  her  "conviction  that  no  ultimate  lessening 
of  income  would  result  from  the  apparent  sacrifice  of 
time."  She  spoke  very  impressively  of  the  duty  which 
man  owed  to  God,  and  of  the  great  error  of  allowing 
temporal  afiairs  to  engross  the  entire  attention.  She 
then  went  into  the  Men's  Meeting,  and  laid  the  same 
subject,  I  was  told,  very  weightily  before  them. 

There  was  a  tall,  elderly  spinster,  who  very  often 
"spoke  to  the  Discipline."  She  had  a  marvellous 
flow  of  words.  Sometimes,  without  pausing,  she  could 
keep  on  speaking  for  an  hour  at  a  time.  Her  "  con- 
cerns" were  numerous,  and  she  united  with,  and  had 
something  to  say  on  the  "concerns"  of  everybody 
else.  Some  departures  from  our  rules  having  been 
reported  by  different  representatives,  on  the  head  of 
marrying  out  of  Meeting,  this  spinster  Friend  had  much 
to  say  in  reprobation  of  the  evil.  It  was  very  evident 
she  had  no  sympathy  for  the  transgressors.  She  mar- 
velled "how  any  one  could  so  far  forget  themselves, 
or  yield  to  temptation,  as  to  be  drawn  away  from  the 


CONCERNS  S  BEFORE  WOMEN'S  MEETING.  175 


high  privileges  which  thej  enjoyed  as  members,  per- 
mitting themselves  to  be  joined  in  marriage  with 
strange  men,  and  thereby  sanctioning  an  hireling 
ministry."  She  said,  "That  wasting  and  destruction 
to  families  had  grievously  resulted  from  this  evil ;  and 
that  she  had  known  instances  where  the  transgressor 
had  irretrievably  lost  her  own  peace  of  mind  from 
it."  She  said,  "To  her  mind  it  seemed  an  indelicate 
thing  for  a  young  female  Friend,  who  had  been  brought 
up  in  our  habits,  and  who  was  accustomed  to  associate 
with  our  worthies  in  Meetings  and  elsewhere,  to  resign 
herself  to  the  company  of  those  without  our  pale. 
People  of  the  world  could  not  be  expected  to  appre- 
ciate our  customs ;  and  once  united  to  one  of  them,  our 
dress  and  our  speech  must  be  resigned.  A  wife  was 
bound  to  due  obedience  to  her  husband ;  and  these 
things,  which  they  thought  little  things,  (because  too 
often  the  light  that  was  in  them  was  darkness,)  were 
obliged  to  be  given  up  for  peace  sake ;  and  thus  it 
was,  when  the  hedge  was  broken  down,  the  wild  boar 
of  the  wilderness  found  an  easy  access,  and  the  ad- 
versary triumphed." 

There  was  much  said  about  slavery,  and  the  women 
and  men  united  in  getting  up  an  address  to  Parliament 
on  the  subject.  There  was  also  much  consultation 
about  receiving  an  epistle  from  one  of  the  American 
Meetings,  which  it  was  reported  had  become  New 
Light  or  Unitarian  in  its  principles.  This  was  left  to 
a  Committee  to  investigate,  and  we  were  only  told 
that  it  was  judged  better  not  to  receive  that  dubious 


176        CONCERNS  BEFORE  WOMEN'S  MEETING. 

epistle;  not  to  read  it  in  our  Meetings,  but  to  return 
it,  which  was  accordingly  done ;  and  both  we,  and  the 
Men's  Meeting  also,  were  cautioned  "not  to  indulge 
in  any  conversation  on  the  subject,  nor  to  seek  for  in- 
formation about  it,  as  those  who  were  best  able  to 
judge  had  been  enabled  to  do  so  very  wisely." 

Drawing  up  answers  to  the  accepted  epistles  was, 
as  usual,  entrusted  to  Committees.  One  day  there  was 
what  is  called  an  Open  Committee,  and  the  young 
Friends  Avere  invited,  and  indeed  urged  to  attend  it. 
I  went  with  several  others ;  but  after  long  sitting,  and 
nothing  done,  one  of  the  Friends  at  the  table  said,  it 
was  not  easy  to  transact  the  business  when  so  many 
were  present,  as  it  was  needful  to  converse  on  it ;  and 
she  therefore  proposed  that  the  old  plan,  of  a  small 
number  of  Friends,  of  mature  understanding,  should 
undertake  the  business  in  the  usual  way — a  room  by 
themselves.  We  had  several  testimonies  for  departed 
Friends,  preachers  of  course.  None  others  are  thus 
honoured;  and  as  they  are  all  "inspired  ministers," 
or  they  would  not  have  been  in  our  galleries,  so  also, 
of  course,  their  ministrations  are  commemorated  in 
those  laudatory  records. 

We  had  two  Meetings  every  day  for  two  weeks ;  and 
the  subjects  I  have  mentioned  were  scattered  over  all 
that  time.  Each  was  dwelt  on  with  all  the  solemnity 
which  w^as  becoming  to  an  assemblage  which  gravely 
asserted,  and  the  majority  of  whom  undoubtedly  be- 
lieved, they  were  listening  to  admonitions  which  the 
speakers  were  under  the  immediate  inspiration  of  the 


COXCERXS  BEFORE  WOMEN'S  MEETING. 


177 


Holy  Spirit  in  giving  forth.  "We  had  five  visits  from 
men  Friends,  two  or  three  at  a  time.  One  of  them  had 
travelled  to  the  Ionian  Islands,  and  was  grieved  at 
witnessing  the  degrading  worship  of  saints  and  images. 
He  advised  that  large  numbers  of  Friends'  tracts 
should  be  sent  out  there,  and  said,  that  he  had  "  reason 
to  believe  that  both  in  Spain  and  Portugal  a  door  was 
opened  for  usefulness  in  the  same  way." 

One  day,  at  the  close  of  the  Morning  Meeting,  we 
were  informed  that  some  of  our  Friends  in  the  ministry 
were  under  a  concern  to  have  a  Meeting  that  evening, 
in  the  large  room,  for  the  youth,  male  and  female,  and 
that  it  was  not  desirable  that  any  over  thirty-five  years 
of  age  should  attend.  I  went  with  the  other  young 
people,  and  was  led  to  think  that  the  English  atmos- 
phere had  some  marvellous  power  to  make  people  look 
old.  Those  juveniles  of  thirty-five  actually  looked,  for 
the  most  part,  over  fifty;  but  a  friend  informed  me, 
that  unmarried  Friends  never  grow  older  than  thirty- 
five. 

In  the  Meetings  for  worship,  which  were  frequent 
during  the  session,  we  had  a  great  deal  of  preaching 
from  all  the  best  ministers,  men  and  women,  in  the 
Society.  Our  old  acquaintance,  Joseph  John,  was,  to 
our  mind,  infinitely  superior  to  any  one  else.  He 
rarely  descended  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  Society, 
but  preached  of  faith,  and  hope,  and  love.  His  quo- 
tations from  Scripture  were  correct ;  and,  by  the  way, 
we  may  remark,  that  is  a  very  unusual  accomplish- 
ment in  our  ministers.  They  very  often  commit  slight 
verbal  inaccuracies :  sometimes  more  serious  ones. 


178 


BIBLE  BEAD  IN  PUBLIC. 


One  day  we  went  to  the  Borough  Meeting-house, 
and  there,  to  our  extreme  surprise,  an  elderly  man 
Friend  rose  in  the  gallery  to  address  us ;  and,  draw- 
ing from  his  pocket  a  small  Bible,  he  commenced 
reading  a  chapter  in  the  Gospels ;  that  ended,  he 
spoke  on  the  subject,  as  he  told  us,  "  not  by  inspira- 
tion, but  in  the  simple  manner  in  which  a  school- 
master would  address  his  pupils."  The  elders  and 
overseers  became  very  fidgetty  on  his  saying  this, 
and  soon  made  him  sit  down ;  and  when  he  repeated 
his  attempt  to  speak,  they  broke  up  the  Meeting.  A 
few  days  after,  I  heard  he  had  been  sent  for  care  to 
a  Friends'  Mad-house.  Whether  he  had  ever  shown 
any  other  symptoms  of  madness,  I  never  heard.  W,e 
asked  repeatedly,  and  one  very  plain  Friend,  to  whom 
I  put  the  question,  for  I  felt  so  sorry  for  the  poor 
man,  answered  me  :  "  Surely  thou  must  know,  every 
one  knows,  that  a  man  must  be  mad  who  would  read 
the  Bible  aloud  in  our  Meeting." 

The  parting  Meeting  was  very  large ;  to  get  in  we 
had  to  undergo  such  pushing,  squeezing  and  jostling, 
as  I  never  met  any  where  else  in  all  my  life.  One 
great,  tall  awkward  Friend,  from  Wales,  with  a  pre- 
posterous broad  brim,  held  his  umbrella  horizontally 
out  from  his  chest,  and  so  cleared  a  path  for  himself 
and  some  women,  who  held  fast  by  him.  An  acquain- 
tance of  mine  was  cruelly  wounded  in  the  arm  by  a 
prod  of  that  umbrella ;  and  I  heard  the  man  several 
times  boasting  of  what  an  excellent  plan  he  had  con- 
trived for  getting  through  the  crowd. 


GREAT  DINNER  AT  MILDRED  COURT.  179 

As  we  were  of  some  consequence,  it  soon  became 
remarked  that  we  had  not  availed  ourselves  of  the 
permission  given  us  by  so  many  Friends,  to  go  and 
take  dinner  at  their  houses.  We  were  spoken  to  about 
it,  and  when  we  said,  that  we  considered  as  those 
offers  were  made  to  us  as  a  matter  of  convenience,  and 
as  we  did  not  stand  in  need  of  any  such,  having  very 
comfortable  dinners  at  our  own  apartments,  it  was  of 
no  importance  to  any  one  but  ourselves.  "We  were 
told  that  it  was  our  Irish  pride,  and  that  we  had  given 
offence.  There  were  some  who  would  not  wish  it  to 
be  said,  that  a  representative  from  Ireland,  and  his 
daughters,  had  not  been  entertained  at  their  houses. 
Hannah  Smith,  a  very  nice  English  girl,  an  old  ac- 
quaintance of  ours,  was  especially  commissioned  to 
bring  us  to  one  of  these  dinners,  given  by  the  great 
EUzabeth,  at  her  own  house.  As  she  had  so  recently 
been  oui-  guest  in  Ireland,  Hannah  m-ged  us  very 
much  to  go  with  her ;  but  we  told  her,  whatever  was 
worth  having  was  worth  asking  for;  and  if  Friend 
Stately  wished  for  our  company,  she  might  take  the 
trouble  to  invite  us,  and  then  we  would  go.  "  Ah  I" 
said  Hannah,  "  I  told  her  already,  that  you,  Irish, 
had  ideas  of  etiquette  quite  different  from  us ;  and 
that  I  feared,  unless  either  she,  or  one  of  her  daugh- 
ters invited  you,  you  would  not  come  for  me.  She 
said,  '  she  could  not  understand  that  anything  more 
was  needed,  than  to  let  you  know  that  she  kept  open 
house  during  the  Meeting ;  that  her  table  was  spread 
daily  for  upwards  of  fifty.'   Do  come,"  said  Hannah. 


180 


GREAT  DINNER  AT  MILDRED  COURT. 


"  very  likely  not  one  of  the  family  will  speak  to  you  ; 
but  it  would  never  do  to  say  you  had  not  been  to 
Mildred  Court."  However,  we  would  not  go ;  but 
coaxed  Hannah,  instead,  to  stop  with  us  ;  and  a  very 
pleasant  little  repast  we  had,  half  lunch,  half  dinner, 
my  father  having  brought,  as  usual,  two  or  three 
of  our  men  Friends  to  join  us.  We  had  quite  as 
much  of  all  the  passing  news  of  the  Meeting  as  we 
wanted.  What  report  of  her  non-success  Hannah 
gave,  I  don't  know ;  but  two  days  after,  a  livery  ser- 
vant was  sent  wdth  a  polite  note  from  Friend  Stately 
herself,  requesting  the  pleasure  of  our  company  to 
dine  with  her  in  three  days'  time.  We  accepted  that 
invitation,  and  went. 

There  were  eighty-two  guests  assembled  in  two 
large  badly  furnished  rooms.  No  lady  presided  to 
receive  us ;  we  were  conducted  by  our  friend  Hannah 
into  the  room,  and  with  difficulty  got  chairs.  There 
were  more  than  a  dozen  standing  by  the  door,  who 
had  no  seats  at  all.  About  five  minutes  before  din- 
ner was  announced,  the  portly  mistress  of  the  mansion 
entered  the  room,  leaning  on  her  brother's  arm.  She 
did  not  take  the  slightest  notice  of  us,  or  of  any  one 
else ;  but  sw^ept  across  the  room  to  the  uppermost 
sofa,  which  was  immediately  vacated  for  her,  the  for- 
mer occupants  retreating  to  the  group  at  the  door. 
When  seated  comfortably,  her  pillows  and  footstool 
arranged,  and  her  two  daughters,  who  had  followed 
her  into  the  room,  also  settled  to  her  mind,  she  looked 
round,  and  nodded  to  one,  and  smiled  at  another. 


GREAT  DIXXER  AT  MILDRED  COURT.  181 


At  length  her  eve  fell  on  me,  and  she  beckoned  me 
to  come  over  to  her.  I  did  so ;  and  had  the  honour 
of  a  cordial  shake  hands,  and  a  most  gracious  wel- 
come to  her  house,  and  to  the  London  Meeting,  and 
to  England  in  general.  She  then  introduced  me  to 
her  daughters,  one  of  whom  slipped  her  arm  inside 
mine,  and  re-conducted  me  to  mj  seat.  My  sister 
underwent  the  same  ceremony,  and  then  mv  father 
was  summoned  in  his  turn.  She  was  very  polite  to 
him,  and  actually  made  room  for  him  to  sit  beside 
her  on  the  sofa. 

Dinner  was  announced,  and  the  lady  and  her  bro- 
ther took  the  lead.  The  women  Friends,  with  here 
and  there  a  venturous  man,  next  forced  themselves 
on,  each  trying  to  get  foremost.  My  father  made 
his  way  through  the  crowd  over  to  us,  and  held  my 
sister  and  myself  on  his  arms.  TTe  whispered  to 
each  other  what  a  strange  scene  it  was,  and  waited 
till  the  crush  had  passed  us  by ;  then  we  followed  into 
the  dining-room.  Two  long  tables  were  laid,  and  both 
were  quite  filled ;  and  at  the  first,  at  which  the  great 
Friend  herself  presided,  the  work  of  demolition  had 
commenced.  A  gentleman  at  the  foot  of  the  second 
table  spied  us  standing  outside  the  door,  jumped  up, 
and  quickly  and  unceremoniously  sweeping  away  three 
men,  he  handed  us  to  their  seats,  and  bade  them  wait 
until  another  table  was  prepared  for  them.  We  re- 
monstrated. "Oh  I"  said  he,  '-never  mind  them, 
they  know  how  to  take  care  of  themselves."  The 
fare  at  our  table  was  only  middling  in  qualitr.  and 
10 


182 


GEEAT  DINNER  AT  MILDRED  COURT. 


very  scanty  in  quantity.  Half  a  salmon  at  the  head, 
and  a  roast  leg  of  lamb  at  the  foot,  a  small  dish  of 
potatoes,  and  a  large  silver  basket  of  cut  stale  bread, 
was  all  provided  for  twenty-five  people.  The  old 
Friend  who  carved  the  lamb  was  very  facetious.  He 
reckoned  heads.  Twenty-five,"  said  he,  "  and  the 
men  will  surely  ask  for  two  helps.  I  wish  I  had  a 
compass,  to  cut  it  even,  share  and  share  for  all.  A 
thin  slice  will  do  for  the  females ;  they  sometimes 
like  to  be  thought  delicate  in  their  appetites  ;  so  I  can 
only  hope,  now,  they  may  feel  flattered  at  my  sup- 
posing them  to  give  a  preference  to  a  delicately  cut 
morsel."  What  was  at  the  best  table  I  do  not  know, 
but  believe  it  was  more  plentiful,  as  one  of  the  young 
men  who  was  dining  in  another  room  with  the  residue 
of  the  guests,  told  me,  that  when  the  dishes  in  our 
room  were  carried  out,  they  were  taken  possession  of 
by  one  of  their  scouts,  and  that  on  one  of  them  there 
was  a  bit  of  beef.  It  was  not  from  our  table  that 
went ;  we  sent  nothing  away. 

Dinner  over,  one  of  the  daughters  came  over  to 
me,  and  said,  would  I  like  "to  take  a  lay?" — that 
there  were  four  bedrooms  open  for  Friends,  and  if  I 
would  go  quick,  before  the  crowd,  I  could  be  accom- 
modated. Her  mother  had  gone,  and  she  was  going, 
"it  was  so  refreshing  before  the  Evening  Meeting." 
Curiosity  induced  me  to  accompany  her  up  stairs,  and 
indeed  it  was  to  me  a  novel  sight,  to  see  from  three 
^  to  four  dozen  women  Friends  crowded  together  in  the 
bedrooms,  some  anxiously  searching  out  their  bonnets 


aREAT  DINNER  AT  MILDRED  COURT. 


183 


and  shawls,  some  eagerly  securing  for  themselves  a 
place  on  the  beds  "to  take  a  lay,"  and  some,  like 
myself,  swelling  the  throng,  for  the  sake  of  looking 
at  the  ludicrous  anxiety  of  the  others.   When  we  left, 
there  were  seventeen  stretched  on  the  beds,  and  two 
humble-minded  young  women  on  the  floor,  seeking 
their  accustomed  antidote  to  drowsiness  in  the  Even- 
ing Meeting.    Our  repast  had  not  been  so  heavy  as 
to  make  us  dread  any  danger  of  transgressing  the 
query.  On  the  contrary,  it  had  been  so  very  sparing, 
that  we  complained  of  actual  hunger  to  my  father, 
who  confessed  to  the  same  himself ;  and,  therefore, 
we  hurried  to  our  own  lodging  to  get  a  bit  of  dinner. 
As  we  were  going  out  of  the  house,  we  met  three 
young  men  of  our  acquaintance,  and  one  lady,  and 
said,  "Where  are  you  hurrying  to?  Come  with  us." 
They  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  The  fact 
is,  we  scarcely  got  a  bit  of  dinner,  and  we  are  going 
to  a  confectioner's  to  get  something  to  eat."  So, 
finding  we  were  all  of  the  same  mind,  they  came  with 
us,  and  we  had  an  impromptu  dinner,  far  more  plen- 
tiful and  merrier  than  the  much-talked-of  affair  at 
which  eighty  people  were  assembled,  that  it  might 
be  said,  such  vast  numbers  were  daily  entertained  at 
Mildred  Court.    Before  leaving  London,  we  received 
an  invitation  to  dine  at  the  country-house  of  these 
great  Friends ;  but  the  specimen  we  had  had  of  their 
style  of  entertainment  sufficed  us,  and  we  declined 
the  honour.    My  aunt  was  invited  at  the  same  time. 
She  w^ent,  and  told  me  afterwards,  that  it  was  quite 


184 


AWFUL  SERMON. 


a  different  affair  from  the  Mildred  Court  dinner.  She 
said,  they  had  a  sumptuous  entertainment,  well  served, 
with  abundance  of  plate,  glass,  &c.  &c.,  and  half  a 
dozen  liverj  servants  to  attend,  and  that  very  few  of 
the  guests  were  Friends.  There  were  Members  of 
Parliament,  a  Baronet,  and  two  Honourables ;  and 
the  portly  mistress  was  the  graceful,  entertaining, 
courteous,  lady-like  hostess ;  not  the  haughty,  super- 
cilious woman  she  had  been  to  us,  who  seemed  as  if 
she  thought  herself  very  condescending  to  sit  for  a 
few  minutes  in  the  same  room,  or  breathe  the  same 
air  with  us. 

We  dined  at  another  Friend's  house,  with  a  very 
large  company,  and  had  a  most  plentiful  repast,  as, 
indeed,  we  had  wherever  we  went,  with  only  the  one 
exception ;  but  these  great  companies  were  not  pleas- 
ant ;  and  having  satisfied  our  curiosity,  with  four  or 
five  of  them,  we  refused  to  join  any  more.  The  En- 
glish Friends  are  not  nearly  so  polite  or  so  well-man- 
nered as  the  Irish ;  they  push  and  drive  to  get  the 
best  seats  for  themselves,  stretch  across  you  at  dinner, 
help  themselves,  and  think  not  of  others ;  and  except 
of  the  Meeting,  they  had  scarcely  any  other  topic  to 
converse  on. 

"  What  Meeting  wast  thou  at  yesterday  ?" 
I  was  at  Devonshire  house.    Elizabeth  Dilman 
was  very  large  in  the  ministry;  and  we  had  quite  an 
awful  sermon  from  Sarah  Wormley." 

"  Indeed  !  dost  thou  recollect  it  ?    I  should  so  like 
to  hear  it." 


AWFUL  SERMON, 


185 


"  Oh !  thou  knowest  we  are  advised  not  to  speak  of 
those  things." 

"  Well,  I  know  we  are  in  general ;  but  thou  says  it 
was  an  awful  sermon.    Do  tell  me  ;  wilt  thou  not  ?" 

She  said,  our  Society  had  fallen  very  low ;  and 
that  as  we  had  deserted  the  cross  which  was  given  us 
to  bear,  we  mi^ht  look  for  the  time  that  the  cross  would 
be  taken  from  us  and  given  to  those  who  were  now 
as  the  offscouring  of  the  earth ;  that  we  would  be 
sifted,  as  gold  and  silver,  in  the  furnace  of  affliction, 
and  that  all  the  dross  and  reprobate  silver  would  be 
cast  out;  that  we  had  been  tried  and  found  wanting. 
A  small  burden  had  been  given  us  to  bear — even  a 
peculiar  dress,  and  a  peculiar  language ;  and  that  we 
had  kicked  against  it ;  and  that  unless  there  was  a 
returning  to  first  principles,  and  an  humble  dedication 
of  self,  a  keeping  down  of  the  risings  up  of  the  worldly 
spirit,  which  was  laying  waste  oui'  borders,  she  was 
bold  to  say  we  would  be  cast  out  as  a  brand  fit  for 
the  firing.  She  said,  it  was  a  vain  thing  to  deceive 
ourselves  with  false  notions — to  imagine  we  had  more 
light  than  our  worthy  predecessors.  She  knew  there 
were  reasoners  afloat — proud  boasters — Bible  readers 
— people  who  met  together  to  study  the  Scriptures. 
They  might  read  the  Bible  from  Genesis  to  Revela-^ 
tion,  and  yet  be  in  darkness.  It  was  only  Christ  in 
you,  the  light  in  you,  that  can  lead  you  into  right- 
eousness ;  and  be  assured,  that  true  light  will  never 
lead  any  one  into  a  joining  with  the  vain  customs  of 
this  wicked  world.  She  said,  the  Bible  should  never 
16* 


186 


AWFUL  SERMON. 


be  read,  but  in  a  prepared  spirit — in  tbe  spirit  of 
prayer ;  for  '  tlie  letter  killetli.'  That  her  words 
migbt  seem  barsb ;  but  slie  did  not  wish  to  be  a  pro- 
phet speaking  smooth  things ;  for  the  time  was  fast 
coming,  when  there  would  be  a  shaking  of  the  dry 
bones,  an  emptying  of  the  whitened  sepulchres.  The 
cry  was  already  going  forth — Who  is  on  the  Lord's 
side,  who  ?  And  the  day  of  battle  would  be  a  day  of 
clouds,  and  gloominess,  and  sorrow." 

"  Oh  !  I  wish  I  had  been  there ;  that  sermon  was 
worth  hearing.  I  was  at  Gracechurch  Street,  and  we 
had  only  four  very  third-rate  sermons — -just  Friends 
easing  their  own  minds." 

"  Dost  thou  know  many  of  the  Friends  here  to- 
day." 

"Yes,  I  know  almost  all  of  them;  that  elderly 
couple  on  the  sofa  are  bride  and  bridegroom ;  she  is 
seventy-two,  he  is  sixty-eight.  Look  how  lovingly  he 
holds  her  hand  in  his.  Is  it  not  pleasant  to  see  how 
the  tender  feelings  of  youth  outlive  the  decay  of 
years  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  is  pleasant  to  see  that  even  the  stiffest  and 
starchest  amongst  us  can  relax  their  gravity  some- 
times. That  dear  aged  couple  look  as  happy,  as  love- 
ing,  and  as  self-absorbed,  as  if  they  were  actually  in 
love  with  each  other." 

"  And  so  they  are.  No  young  bride  could  take 
more  pains  to  select  a  becoming  and  costly  dress  than 
our  Friend  yonder.  Look  close  at  her  cap,  and  thou 
wilt  see  it  is  made  of  Indian  muslin,  and  cost  a  guinea 


KING  GEORGE  IV. 


187 


a  yard ;  her  gown  is  of  the  richest  and  softest  French 
silk,  and  her  petticoat  matches  it.  His  raiment  also, 
is  all  super-superior,  from  his  grey  silk  stockings,  and 
gold  knee-buckles,  up  to  his  fine  cambric  cravat.  But 
he  has  long  had  a  concern  not  to  wear  cotton,  on  account 
of  the  slavery  question ;  neither  does  he  eat  sugar. 
He  is  fond  of  sweets ;  but  puddings  and  pies,  and 
tea,  and  coffee,  must  all  be  sweetened  with  honey  for 
him." 

This  was  the  general  style  of  conversation  at  the 
London  Yearly  Meeting  convivial  parties — what  had 
passed  in  the  Meetings,  or  talking  about  the  people 
present. 

I  was  shown  in  the  Women's  Meeting-room,  the 
seat  on  which  his  Majesty,  King  George  IV.  when 
Prince  Regent,  had  for  a  moment  placed  himself,  when 
led  by  the  spirit  of  adventure,  and,  as  my  informant 
stated,  a  most  unbecoming  curiosity,  he  had,  disguised 
as  a  woman  Friend,  made  his  way  into  the  secret  con- 
clave. His  dress  was  all  right ;  a  grey  silk  gown,  a 
brown  cloth  shawl,  a  little  white  silk  handkerchief, 
with  hemmed  edge,  round  his  neck,  and  a  very  well 
poked  Friend's  bonnet,  with  the  neatly  crimped  bor- 
der of  his  clear  muslin  cap  tied  under  the  chin,  com- 
pleted the  disguise,  in  which  he  might  have  escaped 
detection  very  well,  were  it  not  for  the  tell-tale  boots, 
and  the  unfeminine  position  in  which  the  arms  and 
legs  bestowed  themselves.  The  young  women  who 
sat  behind  him,  and  saw  the  heel  protruding  from  its 
silken  robe,  slipt  quietly  out  of  Meeting  and  gave  the 


188 


KING  GEORGE  IV. 


alarm.  Two  men  Friends  were  speedily  summoned, 
and  the  Royal  intruder  felt  himself  gently  tapped  on 
the  shoulder,  and  requested  to  walk  into  another  room. 
He  made  no  resistance,  but  quietly  went  away  ;  and 
receiving  the  usual  notice,  that  the  rules  of  the  Society 
would  not  allow  any  but  members  to  be  present,  he 
retired,  and  calling  a  hackney  coach,  drove  off,  per- 
haps flattering  himself  that  his  incognito  had  not  been 
penetrated ;  for  although  his  countenance  had  been 
instantly  recognized,  still  nothing  was  said  to  intimate 
that  it  had  been  so.  Resolute  that  none  but  the  in- 
itiated should  be  present,  they  were  yet  careful  to 
treat  with  courtesy  their  most  unexpected  visitant, 
and  even  deferentially  to  respect  his  assumed  cha- 
racter. 


HAT  WORSHIP. 


189 


CHAPTER  X. 

Hat  Worship — Marriage  Ceremony — English  Customs — Ignorance  of 
Friends — Method  of  paying  tithes — Tribute  of  respect  to  the  Es- 
tabhshed  Church — Advice  about  dealing  exclusively  with  Friends 
— Evidences — Venerable-looking  men  chosen  to  sit  in  the  galleries 
— Committing  the  Scriptures  to  memory,  for  the  sake  of  repeating 
in  Meeting,  forbidden. 

AVe  remained  in  London  for  six  weeks  after  the 
Meeting  had  ended,  seeing  all  the  wonderful  and  in- 
teresting sights  of  that  vast  city.  We  had  to  go  by 
oui'selves  to  Westminster  Abbey,  and  to  St.  Paul's,  on 
account  of  the  annoyance  which  results  from  Friends' 
testimony  against  taking  off  the  hat  going  into  a  place 
of  worship,  or  even  a  private  room,  which  they  call 
"hat  worship."  We  could  not  prevail  on  any  of  our 
men  Friends  to  accompany  us  to  these  places.  It  is 
not  pleasant  when  a  man  feels  that  he  is  displaying  a 
moral  courage,  which  it  has  cost  him  much  to  acquire, 
in  upholding  the  manifestation  of  his  own  peculiar 
views,  to  have  that  lofty  feeling  of  self-satisfaction 
rudely  dashed  to  the  ground,  by  the  hand  of  a  A^erger 
quietly  and  gently  removing  in  silence,  and  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  the  hat,  the  broad-brimmed  hat,  which 
he  wears  as  a  symbol  that  he  is  separated,  by  pecu- 
liar holiness,  from  the  "people  of  the  world."  An 


190 


HAT  WORSHIP. 


officer  being  appointed  to  take  off  the  hat  of  a  Friend, 
in  courts  of  law,  churches,  kc.  &c.  is,  I  believe,  the 
very  greatest  cross  which  Quakers  have,  in  reality,  to 
bear  now-a-days.  It  is,  such  a  ridiculously  simple 
termination  of  all  their  scruples  on  the  subject,  and  it 
is  so  entirely  impossible  to  object  to  it,  that  it  makes 
the  mortification  complete.  The  young  Quakers,  for 
the  most  part,  do  violence  to  their  conscience,  rather 
than  submit  to  the  humiliation. 

We  went  to  the  Jews'  Synagogue,  and  there  our 
escort  was  most  courteously  treated.  In  the  Syna- 
gogue no  "hat  worship"  is  allowed.  If  you  take  off 
your  hat,  some  Jew  will  oblige  you  either  to  put  it  on 
again,  or  to  go  out  of  the  house. 

I  was  one  day  greatly  amused,  by  watching  a  very 
plain  man  Friend,  who  was  paying  us  a  morning  visit. 
It  was  a  hot  summer's  day,  and  he  had  walked  a  long 
distance.  He  came  into  our  room,  as  all  orthodox 
Friends  do,  with  his  broad  brim  on,  shook  hands,  and 
sat  doAvn.  After  bearing  his  testimony  thus  for  a  few 
minutes,  he  took  off  the  hat,  and  laid  it  on  the  floor 
beside  him.  We  were  chatting  away,  when  a  loud 
rap  at  the  door  announced  some  more  visitors.  Friend 
Hugh  in  a  great  hurry  popped  on  his  hat,  lest  any 
one  should  see  him  "shirking  his  testimony."  As 
soon  as  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  his  orthodoxy 
was  sufficiently  manifested,  he  yielded  again  to  the 
natural  feeling,  and  laid  the  hat  beside  him.  But 
soon  came  another  visitor,  and  another,  and  poor  hot- 
headed Hugh  replaced  the  badge  of  membership  again 


MARRIAGE  CEREMONY. 


191 


and  again.  This  happened  so  often,  that  at  last  it 
became  very  ludicrous. 

We  visited  all  the  Meetings  in  the  vicinity  of  Lon- 
don during  our  stay ;  and  as  we  came  home  slowly, 
we  "sat  with"  Friends  at  all  the  different  towns  and 
cities  we  passed  through,  when  it  happened  that  we 
were  there  on  Meeting-days.  They  were  one  and  all 
silent  Meetings.  And  on  remarking  how  strange  that 
seemed,  I  was  told  that  ministers  had  exhausted  them- 
selves at  the  Yearly  Meeting;  that  the  exercise  of 
their  spirits,  during  that  solemn  time,  was  so  great, 
that  they  generally  needed  relaxation  and  quiet  for  two 
or  thi'ee  months  after.  I  have  since  often  observed, 
that  those  who  spoke  most  at  Yearly  Meetings,  had 
the  least  to  say  for  a  long  time  afterwards. 

Soon  after  my  visit  to  London,  I  was  married.  Oh ! 
what  an  ordeal  I  had  to  go  through.  My  intended 
husband  lived  in  England,  and  I  in  Ireland  ;  so  that 
we  had  to  undergo  all  the  formalities  which  the  Society 
boasts  of  having  instituted,  under  the  "influence  of 
best  wisdom,"  for  the  performance  of  the  ceremony. 
First  of  all  I  had,  in  the  presence  of  two  men  witnesses, 
to  sign  a  document,  stating  that  the  gentleman  was 
authorized  by  me  to  stand  up  in  his  own  Meeting,  and 
to  inform  his  assembled  brethren  that  he  had  an  in- 
tention of  marrying  me,  telling  them  all  who  I  was^ 
and  where  I  lived.  His  Meeting  then  made  inquiry 
into  his  former  conduct ;  and  a  month  after,  they  gave 
him  a  written  permission  to  marry  me,  as  they  had 
satisfied  themselves  that  he  was  "clear  of  all  other 


192 


MARRIAGE  CEREMOXY. 


marriage  engagements."  The  second  step  was  then, 
that  he  and  I,  with  a  hirge  company  of  our  respective 
relatives,  had  to  walk  in  together,  arm-in-arm,  into 
the  women's  Monthly  Meeting  that  I  belonged  to; 
and  there,  before  the  assembled  throng,  all  seated, 
gazing  at  us,  we  had  each  to  make  the  appointed 
speech  standing,  then  to  sit  down,  while  the  Clerk  of  the 
Meeting  asked  the  relatives  who  accompanied  us,  did 
they  consent  to  the  "presentation  of  marriage"  which 
had  just  been  made?  They  answered  "Yes;"  and 
then  the  written  permission  from  the  English  Meet- 
ing was  read.  We  then  "paused  a  bit,"  and  retired 
from  the  women's  room,  in  the  same  solemn  proces- 
sion we  had  entered  it ;  and,  ha^dng  walked  into  the 
men's  Meeting-room,  there  went  through  the  very 
same  formalities. 

It  is  esteemed  very  desirable  that,  as  soon  as  the 
ceremony  is  over,  the  presentation  party  should,  one 
and  all  of  them,  return  to  their  respective  Meeting- 
rooms,  and  "  sit  out  the  sitting"  with  the  Friends.  We 
evaded  this  custom,  and  returned  home.  We  had  a 
large  dinner  party  that  day,  and  I  received  many 
compliments  on  the  elegance  of  my  dress,  the  beauty 
of  my  companion,  the  satisfactory  manner  in  which 
we  had  performed,  and  admonition  on  the  necessity 
of  speaking  louder  at  the  next  and  final  ceremony. 

Five  weeks  after  this,  another  Monthly  Meeting  was 
held,  and  then  the  two  men  and  the  two  women 
Friends  who  had  been  appointed  to  make  inquiry, 
reported,  that  there  did  not  appear  to  be  any  reason 


MARRIAGE  CEREMONY.  193 

for  refusing  to  allow  of  our  marriage ;  and  therefore 
thej  gave  us  formal  permission  to  go  on  with  it. 
There  was  then  a  delay  of  two  weeks  more,  before  the 
wedding  day  came.  At  last  it  arrived,  and  then, 
accompanied  by  sixteen  couple,  we  were  marshaled 
into  the  elders'  and  overseers'  gallery,  which  is  two 
steps  lower  than  the  ministers,'  and,  like  it,  fronts  the 
whole  assembly.  As  usual  on  such  occasions,  a  vast 
number  of  the  town's  people  flocked  to  see  the  show. 
A  Quaker  bride  is  not  allowed  to  wear  a  veil;  and 
there,  for  two  long  weary  hours,  we  had  to  sit  and  be 
stared  at.  About  the  middle  of  the  Meeting,  an  ap- 
pointed man  Friend  came  over  to  where  we  sat,  and 
placed  before  us  the  words  that  we  were  to  stand  up 
and  repeat  aloud.  Then  we  signed  each  the  long  cer- 
tificate, which  was  a  very  elaborate  and  elegant  spe- 
cimen of  penmanship,  on  vellum,  and  the  man  Friend 
read  the  whole  out  very  loud.  After  this  was  done, 
three  women  Friends  preached.  I  was  told  afterwards 
that  it  was  to  me  they  preached,  and  that  they  had 
admonished  me,  and  hoped  good  for  me  and  my  con- 
sistent walk  through  life,  most  beautifully.  I  did  not 
hear  a  word  of  it.  I  knew  somebody  was  speaking, 
but  the  words  conveyed  to  my  mind  no  more  meaning 
than  the  sound  of  the  waves  as  they  ripple  on  the 
shore.  One  of  the  speakers  was  my  own  new  sister- 
in-law.  Even  her  voice,  which  was  very  peculiar,  did 
not  rouse  me  out  of  that  dreamy  state  which  the 
lengthened  restraint  I  was  compelled  to  keep  myself 
in,  Avliile  the  public  exhibition  lasted,  had  sent  me  into. 
IT 


194 


DINNER  PARTY. 


Our  dinner  party  was  very  large.  All  our  respec- 
tive fathers  and  mothers,  uncles  and  aunts,  brothers 
and  sisters,  brother-in-law  and  sister-in-law,  nephews 
and  nieces,  and  first  cousins,  had  been  invited  for  a 
month  beforehand  ;  and  from  far  and  near  they  came. 
We  assembled  over  eighty  altogether,  and  the  feast- 
ing and  merry-making  continued  for  nearly  a  week. 
Some  of  my  near  relatives  were  not  Quakers.  They 
drew  me  aside  from  the  crowd,  and  prayed  for  me, 
and  blessed  me  ;  so  did  my  own  dear  father  and  mo- 
ther, but  no  one  else.  That  such  a  service  is  desira- 
ble, I  believe  rarely  enters  into  the  head  of  a  true 
Quaker. 

My  father  had  spared  no  pains  or  cost  to  provide 
an  entertainment  worthy  of  the  occasion.  Even  one 
of  his  own  pet,  beautiful  peacocks  was  sacrificed  to 
do  us  honour.  Venison  and  pine  apples,  &c.  &c., 
were  sent  him  by  his  noble  acquaintances ;  and  the 
Lord  Bishop  of  the  Diocese  actually  sent  his  own 
French  cook  to  dress  the  dinner.  Quakers  boast  of 
being  ''a  self-denying  people."  It  would  be  curious 
to  analyze  in  what  the  self-denial  consists.  The  mi- 
nisters, elders,  and  overseers,  who  rule  over  each 
Meeting,  are  certainly  very  strict  in  denying  the 
young  people  those  indulgences,  and  that  liberty  of 
thought  and  action,  which  is  the  inherent  birth-right 
of  us  all.  To  maintain  their  order,  to  uphold  their 
system,  is  necessary  to  them.  It  is  a  pleasure,  not  a 
cross  to  them,  to  wear  the  garb,  and  use  the  language, 
and  live  isolated  from  even  Christian  communion 


ENGLISH  CUSTOMS. 


195 


witli  tlieir  fellows ;  and  it  is  a  pleasure,  not  a  cross, 
to  tyrannize,  as  they  do,  over  the  mass,  by  enforcing 
on  them  those  burdens  which  few,  comparatively,  have 
sufficient  energy  of  mind  to  reject.  The  great  body 
of  the  Society  tamely  submits  to  the  arbitrary  dic- 
tum of  the  few ;  but  that  cannot  be  called  self-denial. 
I  have  asked  different  individuals,  both  in  England 
and  in  Ireland,  dozens  of  times,  "Why  does  thee 
wear  the  bonnet  or  the  hat  ?" — and  the  general  answer 
was,  "  I  wear  it  to  please  my  father  and  mother.  I 
hate  it,  and  can  see  no  earthly  good  in  it ;  but  the 
overseers  would  torment  us  if  I  left  it  off."  This  was 
not  self-denial ;  and  I  am  sure,  that  in  the  matter  of 
appetite,  some  Friends  are  the  most  self-indulgent 
people  in  the  world. 

Soon  after  I  had  moved  to  my  new  home,  near 
Bristol,  I  was  duly  certified  to  the  Meeting  there,  as 
a  Member. 

Some  of  the  customs  of  the  English  Friends  were 
strange  to  me.  For  instance  :  it  was  on  a  third  day 
morning  that  I  made  my  first  appearance  in  the 
Meeting.  A  seat  was  appointed  for  me  on  the  second 
row  of  seats,  high  up.  Very  many  of  the  Friends 
shook  hands  with  me  ;  several  introduced  themselves. 
Nothing  could  be  more  flattering  than  my  reception 
there.  That  day,  two  cousins  of  mine  dined  with  us. 
After  dinner,  my  husband  and  the  gentlemen  went 
out  for  a  walk  into  the  city.  "VYe  sat  chatting  over 
the  drawing-room  fire,  which  was  blazing  so  brightly 
that  we  put  out  the  candles  to  enjoy  it  more  tho- 


196 


ENGLISH  CUSTOMS. 


roughly.  Seven  o'clock  came,  and  immediately  car- 
riage after  carriage  drove  up  to  the  door,  and,  to  my 
utter  dismay,  in  came  Friend  after  Friend,  all  in  best 
company  dress ;  upwards  of  thirty  of  them.  I  did 
not  know  the  name  of  one  of  the  party,  but  that 
made  no  difference ;  they  knew  mine,  and  made 
themselves  quite  at  home,  and  ran  about  the  house  to 
find  chairs  for  themselves.  I  sent  one  of  the  servants 
off  in  a  great  hurry  to  my  sister-in-law,  who  lived 
near,  to  tell  her  of  the  inundation  which  had  come 
on  me,  and  how  unprepared  I  was  for  it.  With  the 
greatest  kindness  and  good  humour,  she  promptly  set 
to  work,  and  packed  up  a  large  basket  of  her  own 
china,  silver  spoons,  and  all  other  requisites,  which 
she  knew  we  had  not  had  time,  as  yet,  to  provide  for 
ourselves.  She  sent  these  things  on  before  her,  and 
then  put  on  her  bonnet,  and  taking  another  servant, 
with  another  large  basket  with  her,  she  went  to  the 
grocer's,  confectioner's,  fruit-seller's,  and  pui'chased 
for  me  all  things  needful  for  the  entertainment ;  and 
then  she  came,  and  helped  me  to  get  tea  for  them. 
To  do  all  this  took  a  long  time ;  and  when  my  hus- 
band came  home  at  night,  he  was  somewhat  surprised 
to  see  his  house  lighted  up,  and  filled  with  so  unex- 
pected a  party,  just  commencing  to  regale  themselves 
with  the  refreshment  which  was  at  last  made  ready- 
Fortunately  he  knew  them  all,  and  introduced  them 
to  me  by  name ;  and  then  we  found  out  that  it  was 
the  custom  in  that  city,  when  they  wished  to  be  very 
polite,  and  to  form  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  a 


IGNORAXCE  OF  FRIEXDS. 


197 


newly  settled  family,  to  flock  in  crowds  to  the  house 
at  tea  time,  on  the  day  of  a  first  appearance  in  the 
Meeting.  I  was  also  then  informed,  that  my  guests 
were  of  the  richest  and  highest  families  belonging  to 
the  Society  in  Bristol ;  and  that  they  had  paid  me 
the  greatest  possible  compliment.  Of  course,  I  felt 
greatly  flattered,  and  could  only  regret  the  awkward- 
ness of  being  so  unprepared  to  receive  them  as  I 
should  have  liked.  The  next  evening  about  a  dozen 
more  came,  and  apologized  for  having  delayed  their 
visit  for  twenty-four  hours  longer  than  they  had 
wished. 

I  found  them,  one  and  all,  amiable,  kind-hearted, 
and  benevolent ;  but  they  did  not  appear  to  be  reli- 
gious, or,  at  least,  although  they  were  all  plain 
Friends,  they  scrupulously  avoided  religious  conver- 
sation ;  and  we  have  it  on  the  authority  of  Holy  writ, 
that  the  mouth  speaks  of  those  things  which  the  heart 
cherishes. 

Some  of  the  English  Friends  were  very  ignorant ; 
they  asked  me  questions  which  astonished  me  from 
persons  moving  in  such  a  sphere  of  life.  One  asked 
me,  "  by  what  conveyance  I  had  travelled  from  Ire- 
land?" and  when  I  mentioned  the  steam-packet,  she 
said,  *'she  would  have  preferred  the  coach,  the  sea 
was  so  dangerous."  Another,  who  told  me  she  was  a 
botanist,  asked  me  "were  there  any  wild  flowers  in 
Ireland?"  and  another,  "was  the  water  in  Ireland 
good  and  clear?"  and  numerous  such  like  questions. 

The  Bristol  Friends  had  another  custom  which 
IT* 


198 


METHOD  OF  PAYING  TITHES. 


amused  me,  it  was  so  unlike  our  Irish  ways.  When 
we  went  to  return  our  bridal  visits,  we  were  received 
ceremoniously  in  the  state  and  coldest  room — kept 
waiting  until  the  ladies  had  time  to  array  themselves 
in  best  order  ;  and  one  good  creature  actually  thought 
it  right  to  apologize  for  receiving  a  bride  in  her  se- 
cond best  gown.  Then,  after  chatting  a  while,  the 
lady  of  the  house  would  say,  Wilt  thou  allow  me  to 
call  for  the  tray  ?"  At  first,  I  did  not  comprehend 
that  this  was  intended  to  convey  the  idea,  that  I  was 
to  consider  I  had  been  offered  lunch  ;  but  having  sub- 
sequently, for  the  amusement  of  the  thing,  assented 
to  the  tray  being  called  for,  and  seen  the  neat,  tidy 
servant  maid,  in  answer  to  the  summons,  lay  on  the 
table  a  tray,  often  a  silver  one,  with  plates,  and  knives, 
and  glasses,  but  nothing  else;  and  watched  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house  pretending  not  to  see  her,  and  to 
be  so  engaged  in  conversation,  as  to  forget  the  tray 
until  we  rose  to  depart,  and  then  hospitably  attract 
our  attention  to  it,  I  was  able  to  understand  the  va- 
lue of  appearances.  Except  in  Bristol,  I  never  met 
with  this  custom ;  there,  I  have  seen  it  over  and  over 
again. 

Soon  after  becoming  a  housekeeper,  I  was  called  on 
by  the  tithe  collector.  Friends  annually  sum  up  the 
amount  of  all  they  have  lost  by  this  suffering,  as  they 
call  it ;  and  I  was  then  under  the  idea,  that  "  our 
noble  testimony  against  an  hireling  ministry,"  was  an 
essential  part  of  all  true  Christianity,  and  that  our 
refusal  to  pay  the  unholy  tax  was  an  acceptable  mar- 


METHOD  OF  PAYIXG  TITHES, 


199 


tyi'dom,  in  a  small  way.  I  had  heard  much  preach- 
ing on  the  subject,  and  very  much  self-laudation  on 
the  faithfulness  of  the  Society  generally,  indeed  uni- 
versally, to  this  our  testimony,  which  so  widely  sepa- 
rated us  from  the  hirelings  of  all  other  creeds.  The 
two  men  who  called  on  me,  for  the  pui'pose  of  collect- 
ing the  disputed  impost,  were  exceedingly  gentle  and 
polite.  They  saw  at  a  glance  that  I  was  an  ignora- 
mus, and  kindly  volunteered  to  inform  me  how  other 
Quakers  managed,  for  I  had  told  them,  that  my  pro- 
fession would  not  allow  me  to  pay  tithes ;  and  that  if 
they  insisted  on  forcibly  taking  away  my  property, 
though  I  would  not  resist,  still  I  would  look  on  it  as 
actual  robbery. 

'•Did  you  ever  pay  tithes  ma'am?"  said  one  of  the 
men. 

Never,"'  I  replied. 

''Well,  then,"  said  he,  "you  are  a  stranger  here, 
I  see,  and  I'll  just  tell  you  how  the  Bristol  Quakers 
manage,  for  I  am  going  about  among  them  for  twenty 
years  past,  and  I  am  always  glad  to  accommodate 
them,  and  meet  their  scruples.  The  sum  you  must 
pay  is  one  guinea  ;  so  I  will  call  here  to-morrow,  at 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  you  just  leave  on 
the  sideboard  there  some  articles  of  plate — youi-  tea- 
pot will  do  very  well,  or  spoons,  or  whatever  you  like 
— then  I  come  and  take  it  away.  You  don't  give  it, 
and  so  your  conscience  is  clear.  You  will  then  re- 
turn to  your  Meeting-people,  that  your  tea-pot,  worth 
ten  guineas,  was  distrained  for  tithe  ;  and  as  soon 


200 


METHOD  OF  PAYIXQ  TITHES. 


after  as  you  like,  you  can  go  to  Mr.  Jones,  the  silver- 
smith, and  tell  him  how  you  lost  your  tea-pot,  and 
are  obliged  to  buy  a  new  one.  He  will  condole  with 
you ;  and  after  showing  you  a  variety  of  new  ones  to 
select  from,  he  will  hand  you  your  own  identical  arti- 
cle, and  say,  he  can  sell  you  that  cheap — say  one 
guinea.  You  pay  youi'  guinea,  and  get  your  own  safe 
back  again,  cleaner  and  brighter  than  ever  ;  and,  if 
you  like,  you  can  purchase  some  other  little  trifling 
article ;  for  Mr.  Jones  is  a  very  accommodating 
man." 

I  was  really  shocked  at  the  cool  proposal  of  so 
nefarious  and  unprincipled  a  transaction,  and  indig- 
nantly rejected  it ;  declaring,  at  the  same  time,  my 
firm  belief,  that  no  Quaker  would  be  guilty  of  so  un- 
dio-nified  and  false  an  act.  The  man  smiled,  and  said, 
^'  Aye,  that  is  the  way  they  all  go  on  at  fii'st ;  but 
ma'am,  it  is  a  great  deal  the  easiest  and  best  plan  in 
the  end ;"  and  then  he  gave  the  names  of  very  many, 
my  own  acquaintances,  who  regularly  once  a  year,  as 
he  jocularly  said,  allowed  Mr.  Jones  to  clean  their 
plate."  "  There  is  old  Mr.  R."  said  he,  "has  a  fine 
massive  silver  tea-pot.  It  is  always  laid  out  ready 
for  me ;  I  always  give  notice  before  I  go ;  and  now, 
twenty  times  I  have  carried  it  ofi",  and  got  it  bright- 
ened for  him.  He  values  it  at  twenty  pounds,  and 
his  tithe  is  only  one  pound  ten.  And  there  is  young 
Mr.  R.  He  likes  me  to  get  his  spoons  done  for  him. 
He  gives  so  many  dinners,  he  likes  to  have  them  bright 
and  new  looking."    Seeing  me  still  very  incredulous. 


METHOD  OF  PAYING  TITHES. 


201 


he  said,  ''Well,  ma'am  I  wont  call  on  you  for  a  week, 
to  give  you  time  to  think  about  the  matter."  During 
that  week  I  went  to  old  Mr.  R.'s,  and  told  his  daugh- 
ter that  tithes  had  been  demanded  of  me,  but  that  I 
had  not  paid  them,  and  was  expecting  another  visit 
from  the  collector. 

"Oh!  yes,"  said  she,  ''this  is  just  the  time  they 
go  about.  They  seized  a  valuable  silver  tea-pot  from 
us  last  Aveek.  My  father  values  it  at  twenty  guineas, 
and  the  demand  in  money  is  only  about  thirty  shillings ; 
but  it  is  a  noble  testimony  we  are  called  on  to  bear ; 
and  I  trust  our  faithfulness  will  yet  be  the  means  of 
opening  the  eyes  of  professing  Christians  to  the  nature 
of  a  pure,  free,  gospel  ministry.  I  trust,  my  young 
Friend,  thou  wilt  be  faithful." 

She  spoke  so  seriously,  that  I  hesitated  to  say  what 
I  intended  about  Jones's  shop,  lest  the  idea  that  I  for 
a  moment  could  think  her  or  her  father  capable  of 
such  a  deed,  might  offend. 

I  then  called  on  young  Mrs.  R.,  and  mentioned  the 
same  thing  to  her.  "They  did  indeed,"  said  she, 
"  take  our  spoons ;  but  my  William  has  some  way  or 
other  to  get  them  back.  I  can't  tell  how  he  manages  ; 
but  I  suppose  they  are  ashamed  of  taking  so  much 
over  their  demand,  and  so  return  them.  At  any  rate, 
they  are  sent  back  beautifully  polished ;  and  not  only 
that,  but  a  handsome  sugar-spoon,  with  our  crest  en- 
graved on  it,  was  also  amongst  them.  I  suppose  they 
were  sorry,  and  put  in  the  spoon  by  way  of  atone- 
ment."   I  suspected  that  my  Friend  WilKam  might 


202 


METHOD  OF  PAYING  TITHES. 


know  more  than  his  wife  on  the  subject,  but  said 
nothing. 

I  then  went  to  Jones's  shop,  and  boldly  asked,  if 
the  J  would  return  me  articles  of  plate  which  might 
be  distrained  for  tithe,  on  paying  the  exact  amount 
of  tithe  demanded,  and  was  politely  informed,  that  they 
would  be  most  happy  to  do  so — to  enter  into  the  same 
arrangement  with  me  as  with  other  Quakers.  "  But," 
said  I,  "  what  recompense  will  you  require,  for  afFord- 
me  so  great  an  accommodation  ?" 

"None  whatever,"  replied  the  shopkeeper;  "the 
Friends  are  very  good  customers  of  ours ;  we  are  al- 
ways glad  to  see  them  entering  our  doors." 

"And  what  must  I  pay  the  collectors?" 

"  They  make  no  charge  either  ;  you  can  give  them 
an  odd  shilling  now  and  then  if  you  like,  for  they  are 
very  honest,  civil  fellows." 

Faithful  to  their  appointment,  at  the  end  of  the 
week,  the  men  came  to  me,  walked  straight  into  the 
parlour,  and  over  to  the  sideboard,  and  looked  dis- 
appointed not  to  find  the  plate  ready  laid  out  for  them. 
I  told  them  I  had  to  apologize  for  doubting  their  vera- 
city. I  had  inquired,  and  found  that  their  statement 
was  true  ;  but  as  I  could  not  see  any  sense  in  such  a 
round  about  way  of  paying,  I  thought  it  simpler,  and 
came  to  the  same  thing  in  the  end,  to  pay  the  money 
at  once,  which  I  did.  They  thanked  me,  and  broadly 
grinning,  said,  "  I  was  the  only  Quaker  in  Bristol  Avho 
did  the  thing  in  a  straight  forward  manner,  as  most 
of  the  Society  had  a  crank  in  their  consciences  about 


METHOD  OF  PAYING  TITHES. 


203 


it."  This  first  drew  my  attention  to  the  doctrine  of 
our  Friends  as  relates  to  tithes.  I  studied  the  rules 
of  the  Meeting,  Barclay's  Apology,  and  various  tracts, 
&c.  on  the  subject ;  and  finding  that,  in  the  first  place, 
they  assume,  that  all  who  receive  any  pecuniary  aid, 
are  hirelings,  and  preach  for  the  sake  of  filthy  lucre ; 
and  in  the  next  place,  that  the  one  only  Scripture  text 
on  which  they  profess  to  be  called  on  to  bear  this 
testimony,  is  this — "  Freely  ye  have  received,  freely 
give,"  I  imagined,  that  the  first  was  an  uncharitable, 
as  well  as  a  most  unwarrantable  assumption ;  and  the 
second  seemed  to  me  an  actual  command  to  give. 
Surely  it  is  a  curious  perversion,  to  construe,  "  freely 
give,"  into  ^'do  not  give." 

I  never  was  called  to  account  by  the  Meeting  for 
paying  my  tithe.  The  Friends  to  whom  we  reported, 
when  called  on  for  the  amount  of  our  "sufi"erings  for 
the  cause  of  truth,"  merely  remarked  on  the  small  sum 
we  returned ;  and  at  the  next  Monthly  Meeting,  I 
heard  the  query  satisfactorily  answered — and  by  one 
of  those  very  Friends,  whose  names  had  been  men- 
tioned to  me,  as  customers  of  Jones  the  silver-smith — 
"that  Friends  were  faithful  in  bearing  their  Christian 
testimony  against  paying  tithes,  priests'  demands, 
and  church  rates." 

I  really  felt  that  day,  that  I  was  an  awful  hypocrite 
in  the  sight  of  God,  to  sit  quietly  by,  sanctioning  such 
a  mean,  cowardly  subterfuge.  But  my  conscience  soon 
got  hardened  again,  by  listening  to  the  repetition  of 
the  thing ;  and  besides,  it  is  only  by  very  slow  degrees 


204 


THE  ESTABLISHED  CHURCH. 


that  the  light  breaks  in  upon  a  mind  which  has  been 
drilled  into  a  system.  When  I  think  now,  of  the  great 
difficulty  I  felt  in  shaking  off  the  mental  thraldom  of 
Quakerism,  and  of  the  many  years  that  I  lived,  seeing 
the  fallacies  of  the  system,  and  alive  to  the  discre- 
pancies between  profession  and  practice,  and  yet 
unable  to  see  my  way  out  of  the  distorted  system  of 
Christianity  which  I  knew^  it  to  be,  I  can  feel  very 
tenderly  for  those  who  are  still  dAvelling  in  that  gloom, 
from  which  I  was  only  rescued  by  the  rough  hand  of 
adversity,  and  the  persecution  w^hich,  for  ten  years 
past,  the  Society  has  condescended  to  inflict  on  me ; 
but  I  am  not  come  to  that  yet. 

There  was  an  elderly  female  preacher,  who  some- 
times favoured  me  with  a  morning  call.  She  always 
spoke  kindly  and  affectionately  to  me ;  although  she 
considered  she  was  in  the  line  of  her  duty  in  reproving 
me  for  the  fashion  of  my  window  curtains,  and  the  oil 
paintings  on  the  w^alls,  still  it  was  not  done  in  an 
offensive  manner,  and  evidently  only  for  the  "easing 
of  her  mind."  This  dear  old  woman  had  one  conver- 
sation with  me,  which  left  an  indelible  impression  on 
my  mind.  It  was  in  reference  to  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures  daily,  which  she  was  advocating.  She  said, 
she  greatly  admired  the  Established  Church,  because 
in  it  the  Scriptures  were  so  freely  and  so  largely  read ; 
and  that  notwithstanding  the  many  practices  therein, 
with  which  as  a  Quaker,  she  could  not  unite,  still  she 
felt  very  sure  the  Lord  would  honour  it,  because  it 
honoured  his  written  Avord.    And  in  conclusion,  she 


EXCLUSIVE  DEALTXG  WITH  FRIEXDS.  205 


said,  If  I  were  not  a  Friend  by  birth,  and  education, 
and  habits,  and  familv  tics,  I  would  join  myself  to  the 
Established  Church."  Never  before,  and  never  but 
once  since,  have  I  hoav  1  a  plain  Friend  speak  even 
kindly  of  the  Church  of  England :  and  as  I  had  im- 
bibed much  of  the  dissenting  spirit  myself,  these  re- 
marks, from  one  I  c?tceraeu  highly,  surprised  and 
interested  me:  and  it  wa-^  in  consequence  of  them,  I 
resolved  to  go  to  Church,  and  judge  for  myself — a 
resolution  I  carried  into  effect,  and  wliich  has  drawn 
down  on  me  ever  since,  the  wrath  of  the  Society. 

Another  little  elderly  female  preacher  also  visited 
me.    She  was  not  of  the  set  I  belonged  to ;  for  the 
Bristol  Meeting  ^^Jis  divided  into  three  sets:  the  hicrh 
Friends,  or  the  rich  and  well  born ;  the  rich  and  low 
born,  and  the  poor.    My  visitor,  Grace  Mann,  was 
in  the  second  set.  and  consequently  her  visit  was  un- 
expected. But  she  was  a  minister,  and  therefore  wel- 
comed with  all  due  gravity.   Half  preaching,  half  con- 
versinfi:,  she  informed  me  that  her  concern  in  visitincj 
me  was  to  urge  upon  me  the  propriety  of  dealing 
at  Friends'  shops.    She  thought,  "as  a  people,  we 
would  do  well  to  encourage  each  other:  and  besides 
that,  there  was  a  temptation  to  depart  from  the  plain 
language,  when  we  resorted  to  shops  kept  by  the 
*  people  of  the  world;'  it  was  sometimes  hard  for 
young  people  to  be  faithful  to  their  testimonies  in 
such  exposed  situations;"  and  then  she  asked,  "who 
was  my  baker?"    I  mentioned  the  name.    "Ah I" 
said  she,  "now  I  am  coming  to  the  point.    My  son 
18 


206 


EVIDKN'CES. 


Daniel  is  in  the  baking  business.  He  makes  very 
good  bread ;  I  think  Friends  ought  to  deal  with  him 
more  generally  than  they  do." 

Quakers  are  often  said  to  be  a  sly  set  of  people ; 
and  indeed  I  often  thought  our  preachers  very  much 
so,  when  they  attract  one's  attention  by  the  words, 
"a  concern,"  or  ''an  evidence,"  which  conveys  the 
idea  of  an  inspiration  from  heaven,  and  which  ought 
to  be  irresistible  in  its  influences,  and  then  to  press, 
as  they  so  often  do,  some  point  which  bears,  directly 
or  indirectly,  on  their  own  individual  welfare  and 
interests. 

The  "  evidences"  go  farther  still ;  they  sometimes 
reach  beyond  the  tomb.  There  was  a  young  woman, 
who  had  a  very  uneasy  conscience  as  she  lay  upon 
her  dying  bed.  She  longed  for  pardon  and  peace ; 
but  knew  not  where  to  look  for  it ;  and  neither  her 
mother  or  sisters  could  direct  her  fainting  heart  aright. 
At  last  they  sent  for  a  female  minister,  a  very  cele- 
brated one  in  the  Society.  She  sat  with  the  invalid, 
and  preached  to  her,  and  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible 
too;  but  still  no  ray  of  joy  beamed  on  the  dying- 
pillow.  The  poor  sufferer  told  them  of  her  agonized 
feeling  of  unforgiven  sin.  There  was  a  protracted 
silence  ;  and  then  the  minister  spoke,  and  bade  the 
dying  woman  not  to  fear,  for  that  she  had  "an  evi- 
dence" that  her  sin  was  blotted  out,  and  that  the  pearl 
gates  of  heaven  were  open  to  receive  her.  The  inva- 
lid did  not  again  speak  of  her  own  feelings ;  whether 
she  felt  satisfied  with  the  "evidence,"  or  whether  she 


EVIDEXCES. 


207 


felt  ready  to  say  with  Job — Miserable  comforters 
are  ye,"  no  one  knows. 

An  elderly  unmarried  man  Friend,  also  was  dying. 
His  death-bed  was  attended  with  unremitting  attention 
by  another  woman  preacher.  He,  too,  was  in  a  piti- 
able state  of  mind,  dreading  to  meet  the  face  of  an 
offended  Grod.  She  nursed,  and  cared,  and  read,  and 
preached  for  him.  She  told  me  he  had  to  underga  a 
great  mental  conflict;  but  that  she  always  rejoiced  to 
witness  a  conflict,  as  it  was  a  ofood  si<jn  for  the  de- 
parting.  After  some  days  witnessing  the  terrors  of 
death,  she  told  him,  that  ''  she  had  an  evidence  of  his 
acceptance."  He  clung  to  it,  as  a  drowning  man  would 
to  a  strarr,  and  died,  relying  for  pardon  and  for  heaven 
on  her  "evidence."  He  had  been  always  a  plain 
Friend,  a  regular  attender  of  Meetings;  and  being 
well  to  do  in  the  world,  it  seemed  to  Friends  un- 
accountable that  he  should  so  tremble  at  the  sight 
of  the  grave.  Some  time  after  his  death,  it  was  dis- 
covered, that  he  had  been  a  clever,  but  most  arrant 
knave.  He  had  been  remarkably  obliging,  in  helping 
unmarried  women  and  widows  in  the  management  of 
their  afl'airs,  and  especially  kind  in  relieving  them  of 
the  unpleasantness  of  going  to  the  Bank  to  make  their 
deposits ;  and  sometimes  with,  but  oftener  without  ask- 
ing them  even,  he  would  good-naturedly  receive  their 
dividends,  and  bring  or  send  the  amount  to  them. 
Death,  that  dread  revealer  of  secrets,  told,  that  whilst 
so  kindly  paying  the  dividends,  he  had  put  the  princi- 
pal into  his  own  pocket:  and  the  deceived  women  soon 


208 


EVIDEXCES. 


found  tiiat  tlicir  receipts  were  forged.  One  poor  widow, 
with  a  large  family,  lost  her  all — two  thousand  pounds 
— bj  this  orthodox  friend,  who  was  safely  sent  to  hea- 
ven on  an  "evidence." 

I  was  greatly  shocked  at  hearing  of  another  "  evi- 
dence," and  the  effect  on  the  survivors  from  heeding 
such  an  unwarrantable  assumption  of  inspiration.  An 
acquaintance  of  mine  died,  too  proud  to  talk  of  his 
mental  agon}^,  which  w^as  only  known  to  those  about 
him  by  an  occasional,  and  apparently  uncontrollable 
outburst  of  terror.  His  life  had  been  an  irreligious 
one ;  and  his  latest  act  was  a  malevolent  attempt  to 
sow  the  seeds  of  strife  and  domestic  unhappiness  in  a 
family  over  vrhich  his  w^ealth  had  given  him  influence. 
The  widow  and  children,  whilst  they  rejoiced  in  being 
released  from  his  tyranny,  trembled  with  horror  at  the 
idea  of  the  future,  on  which  he  had  now  entered.  He 
left  directions  that  his  widow  should  continue  the  un- 
hallowed conduct  which  God  had  prevented  him  from 
finishing.  She  recoiled  from  the  hateful  task,  and  posi- 
tively refused  to  aid  in  the  unrighteous  w^ork.  She 
became  sadly  anxious  for  the  soul  of  her  departed 
husband,  and  was  daily  becoming  more  and  more  alive 
to  the  necessity  of  securing  her  own  salvation,  and 
fleeing  from  the  wrath  to  come.  In  this  state  of  mind 
she  was  visited  by  a  woman  preacher,  a  relative  of 
her  own,  one  w^ho  knew  well  the  ungodly  character 
of  the  deceased.  She  jntied  the  poor  widow;  and 
having  sought  in  vain  to  console  the  wounded  spirit 
by  ordinary  means,  at  last  resorted  to  an  "  evidence." 


VENEKABLE  OLD  MEN. 


209 


One  morning,  whilst  dressing,  in  the  act  of  lacing  her 
stays,  she  hurried  across  the  lobby  into  the  widow's 
apartment,  and  in  an  excited  manner  exclaimed,  "  Oh  ! 
I  have  had  an  evidence.  Whilst  lacing  my  stays,  I 
had  a  clear  evidence,  that  thy  husband  is  in  heaven, 
and  I  have  hurried  here  to  tell  thee,  for  I  knew  it 
would  so  cheer  thee."  The  widow,  from  whom  I  had 
the  story,  took  the  comfort  it  was  designed  to  give 
her.  She  undoubtingly  assured  me,  that  such  an  evi- 
dence was  incontrovertible.  She  ceased  to  sorrow  for 
the  soul  of  her  husband:  and  soon  after,  imagining, 
naturally  enough,  that  if  his  conduct  was  not  so  bad 
as  to  shut  him  out  of  Heaven,  it  was  not  so  very  dan- 
gerous for  her  to  continue  his  ill  deeds.  She  took  up 
the  business  he  had  left  undone,  from  which  she  had 
at  first  shrunk  with  dismay,  and  soon  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  it,  with  as  keen  an  eagerness,  and  as  reckless 
a  disregard  of  all  righteousness,  as  he  had  done. 

In  the  Bristol  Meeting,  there  were  two  men  and 
half  a  dozen  women  preachers.  Several  other  men 
were  accustomed  to  sit  in  the  gallery ;  for,  both  among 
the  English  and  Irish  Friends,  it  is  the  custom,  when 
there  are  not  a  sufficient  number  of  men  preachers,  to 
select  a  few  others,  of  the  most  respectable.  Grave- 
looking,  white-haired  men  are  preferred  to  sit  in  the 
gallery.  The  object  in  doing  so  is,  that  if  any  of 
"  the  people  of  the  world"  should  chance  to  come  into 
Meeting,  they  might  behold  a  well-filled  preachers' 
gallery  ;  and  as  the  women  everywhere  so  greatly  out- 
number the  men,  it  is  not  deemed  desirable  that  a 
18* 


THE  christian's  test. 


stranger  should,  at  a  glance,  be  aware  of  that  fact, 
which  is  not  altogether  a  satisfactory  one. 

In  consequence  of  what  that  good,  pious  little  wo- 
man had  said  to  me  about  the  Established  Church,  I 
went  to  see  and  hear,  and  judge  for  myself.  By  the 
merest  chance  I  went  to  St.  James',  and  had  the  great 
privilege  of  hearing  that  good  old  saint,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Biddulph,  preach.  In  his  sermon  he  introduced  the 
text,  There  is  no  other  name  given  among  men, 
whereby  Ave  may  be  saved,  but  only  the  name  of 
Jesus  ;"  and  dwelt  much  on  the  necessity  of  the  name 
"Jesus"  being  reverenced  and  honored.  He  said, 
"It  Avas  a  test  of  our  being  Christians,  and  that  vast 
numbers  of  professors  were  ashamed  of  it,  and  avoided 
the  use  of  it.  That  it  was  a  stumbling-block  oA-er 
which  many  fell ;  and  that  no  one  deserved  to  be  call- 
ed a  Minister  of  the  Gospel  Avho  did  not  faithfully 
and  lovingly  publish  the  glad  tidings,  that  faith  in  the 
name  of  Jesus,  who  shed  his  precious  blood  to  atone 
for  sin,  Avas  the  only  Avay  Avhereby  salvation  might  be 
attained."  I  Avas  so  pleased  Avith  the  serA'ice  of  the 
Church,  and  Avith  the  intelligible  and  reasonable  ser- 
mons I  heard  there,  that  I  continued  a  frequent  at- 
tender,  but  only  at  such  times  as  did  not  interfere 
Avitli  my  OAYn  Meeting,  to  Avhich  I  still  felt  bound. 

The  contrast  betAveen  the  sermons  I  heard  at  Church, 
and  those  I  heard  at  Meeting,  Avas  painfully  striking. 
Our  Friends  scarcely  ever  mentioned  the  name  of 
Jesus.  They  seemed  as  if  careful  to  avoid  it,  or  fear- 
ful of  using  it.    Tbey  Avoiild  ^ay,  our  Redeemer,  our 


PREACHERS, 


211 


Saviour,  our  Lord,  our  Heavenly  Father,  and  even 
Christ,  but  the  name  Jesus — the  sweetest  name  that 
mortal  lips  have  ever  breathed — was  very  rarely  men- 
tioned. 

There  was  an  old  man,  Francis  Armit,  who  spoke 
almost  every  first  day.  It  was  very  tiresome  to  listen 
to  him,  he  spoke  so  slow  and  so  sleepily.  Yv^hether  it 
was  for  the  sake  of  appearing  solemn,  or  whether  it 
was  that  he  had  to  think  what  word  should  follow  the 
last  he  had  spoken,  I  know  not ;  but  the  effect  was 
exceedingly  unpleasant  to  any  one  who  took  the  trouble 
of  listening  and  trying  to  comprehend  the  idea,  if  idea 
he  had.  Several  Friends  told  me  they  never  thought 
of  listening  to  his  monotonous  drawl ;  and,  indeed,  I 
am  very  sure,  had  any  one  asked  him,  when  it  was 
over,  what  he  had  been  saying,  he  could  not  himself 
have  told.  I  was  often  under  the  impression  that  he 
was  asleep ;  and  as  his  eyes  generally  closed  soon  after 
he  began,  it  is  not  impossible  that  he  may  have  been 
so,  and  just  spoke  on  as  he  had  for  so  many  years 
been  in  the  habit  of  doing.  I  asked  one  day,  after 
one  of  his  see-saw,  sleepy  sermons,  how  it  was  that 
such  wretched  drivelling  vras  tolerated  ?  and  was  an- 
swered, thus,  "  Oh !  we  have  so  few  men  ministers,  sure 
it  is  well,  for  the  appearance  of  the  thing,  to  have  him 
even.  Besides,  having  been  acknovrledged  as  an  in- 
spired minister.  Friends  can't  go  back  no^y.  That 
would  intimate  that  their  own  inspiration,  in  electing 
him,  did  not  come  from  '  best  wisdom.'  "  As  soon  as 
Friend  Francis  had  done,  and  sat  down,  up  would  rise 


212 


niEACIIEIl.'^. 


little  Grace  Mann,  and  invariably  begin  with,  And 
it  is  given  me  to  add  a  few  words  to  the  valuable  in- 
struction we  have  just  been  favored  with."  She  would 
keep  on  speaking  for  about  five  minutes,  and  her  ob- 
ject seemed  to  be,  to  make  us  think  the  former 
speaker's  address  really  had  some  sense  in  it ;  and  that 
as  she  guessed  we  could  not  find  it  out,  she  would  tell 
us  w^hat  it  was. 

The  other  vvomen  were  very  small  in  their  gifts." 
They  rarely  spoke,  and  then  only  ''broken  words." 
and  I  may  add,  broken  sense,  too.  There  was  another 
man  speaker  too,  who  gave  us,  in  tolerable  good  lan- 
guage, an  occasional  address,  a  short  essay  on  truth, 
or  on  virtue ;  but  from  the  time  I  had  heard  Mr. 
Biddulph's  sermon,  I  watched  closely,  and  wrote  down 
almost  all  I  heard  in  that  Meeting,  and  assuredly  it 
w^as  not  the  Gospel  of  salvation.  Others  were  aware 
of  this  fact  as  well  as  myself.  One  man,  the  father 
of  a  motherless  famil}^,  having  in  vain  tried  to  have 
the  Bible  read  on  first  days,  was  actually  in  the  habit 
of  committing  to  memory  a  whole  chapter  in  the 
Gospels,  and  repeating  it.  But  this  gave  offence, 
and  he  was  forbidden  to  do  so  any  more. 


SPECULATIOX. 


213 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Speculation — Anecdote  illustrative  of  the  value  of  riches — Theatre 
better  than  Church — Quaker  idea  of  what  dissipation  really  is — 
Manoeuvring  for  a  husband — Elopements — Feelings — Education 
unnecessary  for  a  Preacher — Persecution — Friend  Gregory's  me- 
thod of  taking  revenge — Disownment  and  its  consequences. 

Some  of  our  men  Priends  Avere  remarkably  clever 
speculators  on  'Change,  and  ^vere  particularly  noted 
for  making  "good  hits,"  after  having  sat  in  the  usual 
week  day  Morning  Meeting.  They  would  laughingly 
tell  us,  that  the  two  hours  quiet  mental  calculation 
helped  them  greatly ;  and  were  quite  delighted,  and 
took  it  as  a  compliment,  when  a  gentleman  one  day, 
with  a  very  sober  face,  remarked,  "  Indeed  I  am  no 
match  for  ^-ou,  after  your  Tuesday  Meeting." 

The  printed  rules  of  the  Society  are  good  and  sound 
in  reference  to  speculation,  but  the  practice  is  totally 
different.  So  long  as  a  man  is  fortunate,  and  that 
wealth  flows  into  his  coffers,  he  may  speculate  in  every 
conceivable  way ;  and  the  richer  he  becomes,  the  higher 
ho  will  rise  in  the  estimation  of  the  Meeting  ;  but 
should  his  speculation  fail,  then,  indeed,  the  overseers 
will  be  on  the  alert,  and  the  rules  rigorously  enforced. 
If  the  unfortunate  has  lost  only  a  part  of  his  property, 


214 


VALUE  OF  EICHES, 


they  will  "deal  with  him  gently,"  and  not  put  him 
out ;  but  if  he  has  lost  his  all,  no  mercy  is  ever  shown. 
The  Meeting  testifies  its  displeasure  of  his  infraction 
of  the  rules,  and  he  is  ''disowned,"  or  in  other  words, 
excommunicated. 

There  were  tw^o  brothers,  partners  in  business,  who, 
at  a  time  when  speculation  ran  high,  had  entered  into 
the  spirit  of  it,  and  realized  an  enormous  sum.  With 
them  the  old  adage  proved  a  true  one,  "  Much  would 
have  more ;"  and  again  they  ventured,  and  lost  all, 
and  more  than  all  they  had  won.  Whilst  the  Fates 
had  been  propitious  they  were  loaded  with  congratu- 
lations and  compliments  on  their  sagacity  and  clever 
management ;  but  when  the  tide  of  fortune  turned, 
they  were  looked  coldly  on,  and  the  "  Rules  of  our 
Society,"  those  ''inspired  Rules,"  were  held  up  to 
them  in  terrorem.  The  brothers  were  both  married 
men.  The  wife  of  one  of  them  had  a  moderate  an- 
nuity settled  on  herself ;  the  other  was  now  penniless. 
The  overseers  visited  them  in  the  solemn  way  in  which 
they  always  deal  with  defaulters.  How  they  sepa- 
rated tlie  sin  of  one  brother  from  that  of  the  other 
did  not  transpire ;  but  the  result  was,  that  he  whose 
w^ife  had  the  independence  remained  a  Quaker,  and 
the  other  unfortunate  was  disowned. 

This  is  by  no  means  an  isolated  case,  and  the  prac- 
tice of  the  Society  is  oftentimes  really  curious. 

It  is  a  rule  of  the  Meeting,  that  you  must  attend 
regularly,  if  in  health,  all  the  appointed  Meetings.  If 
you  neglect  to  do  so,  the  overseers  make  inquiry  as  to 


THEATRE  BETTER  THAN  CHURCH. 


215 


the  cause  of  joui*  absence.  Should  they  ascertain  that 
you  go  to  any  other  place  of  Tvorship,  especially  to  the 
Chui'ch,  or,  as  they  politely  call  it,  ''the  Steeple 
House,"  you  are  immediately  put  under  the  most  ri- 
gorous "dealing;"  but  if  yom*  absence  from  Meeting 
is  only  the  result  of  perfect  indifiference  ;  that  you 
stay  at  home,  and  do  not  go  to  any  place  of  worship, 
it  is  all  right,  and  you  are  in  as  good  estimation  as 
ever.  In  the  same  way  a  Quaker  may  attend  thea- 
tres, balls,  races,  &c.  <&c.,  all  of  which  are  forbidden 
by  the  rules,  and  he  will  not  be  disowned  for  it ;  but 
if  he  is  found  to  be  guilty  of  going  to  Church,  he 
must  be  cut  off  from  the  body  as  a  diseased  branch, 
"  fit  only  for  the  firing." 

There  was  a  young  Quaker  lad,  who  having  formed 
an  acquaintance  with  a  Christian  gentleman,  was  in- 
vited to  accompany  him  to  a  meeting  of  the  Ply- 
mouth Brethren.  The  lad  went,  and  was  so  pleased 
with  the  Christian  instruction  he  there  received,  tha£ 
he  spoke  of  it  to  his  mother.  She  was  a  minister, 
and,  not  satisfied  with  sharply  reprimanding  her  son, 
she  made  it  her  business  to  speak  to  the  gentleman 
who  had  invited  him,  to  request  he  would  never  again 
lead  her  son  so  astray.  The  gentleman,  who  was  re- 
ally interested  in  the  welfare  of  the  lad,  replied  to 
her  thus :  "  Your  son  is  in  danger  of  being  drawn 
into  infidelity.  His  companions  are  young  men  of 
notoriously  incorrect  lives ;  and  he  is  so  pleasant  a 
companion,  and  so  easily  led,  that  I  should  have 
thought  you  would  rejoice  to  hear  that  he  took  plea- 


216  WHAT  DISSIPATION  REALLY  IS. 


sure  in  attending  a  place  of  Christian  Worship..  You 
know  he  is  constantly  at  the  theatre,  and  he  told  me 
you  had  reproved  him  for  going  there."  "Yes," 
she  answered,  "I  do  know  he  goes  to  these  places ; 
and  I  know  that  his  companions  are  wild  young  men ; 
but  I  had  far  rather  he  should  be  there  with  them, 
than  go  with  thee  to  a  place  of  'common  worship.' 
When  he  grows  older  he  will  settle  down  into  a  steady 
Friend  ;  I  have  no  fear  of  that.  But  if  once  he  gets 
into  the  habit  of  frequenting  thy  Church,  he  will  be 
lost  to  the  Society." 

Some  of  the  Friends  have  very  confused  ideas  of 
what  sin  really  is.  A  young  friend  of  mine  was  about  • 
to  be  married.  The  intended  bridegroom  was  a  total 
stranger  to  me,  even  by  name.  I  asked  a  mutual 
friend  about  him — "  Is  he  a  plain  Friend  ?  Is  he 
young  ?  and  is  he  rich  ?"  She  replied,  "  He  is  3^oung 
enough,  and  he  is  rich  enough,  but  I  am  sorry  to  say 
he  is  not  a  plain  Friend ;  indeed,  I  am  told  he  is  a 
very  dissipated  young  man." 

"Indeed,"  said  I,  "I  am  sorry  to  hear  thee  say 
so,  for  our  dear  Anna's  sake.  But  how  is  he  dissi- 
pated ?" 

"Ah!"  she  answered,  "he  wears  a  collar  on  his 
coat,  and  a  diamond  ring  on  his  finger ;  and,  worse 
than  that,  he  often  goes  to  Church." 

"Well,"  I  replied,  keeping  on  as  grave  a  face  as 
I  could,  "  If  that  is  the  only  dissipation  he  is  guilty 
of,  he  may  make  a  very  good  husband.    But  how 


MAXCEUVRIXO  FOR  A  HUSBAND. 


217 


happens  it  that  he  has  not  been  disowned  for  going 
to  Church?" 

For  a  very  good  reason,"  she  answered,  •*  because 
he  is  rich.  They  do  not  like  to  disown  a  rich  young 
man,  for  there  is  always  the  hope  that  such  may  mar- 
ry among  us ;  and  then  so  much  depends  upon  the 
wife,  whether  they  may  become  steady  Friends  or 
not ;  the  chance  is,  they  will.  When  once  they  sow 
their  wild  oats  they  settle  down  quietly,  and  do  not 
think  any  more  about  the  religion  of  other  people, 
which  does  not  concern  them  at  all." 

Many  amusing  stories  of  love,  and  marriage,  and 
manoeuvi'ing  for  husbands  have  come  to  my  know- 
ledge ;  and  in  narrating  some  of  them,  I  am  influenced 
by  the  desire  of  showing,  that  the  assumption  of  be- 
ing led  and  guided  in  all  things  by  the  Spirit  of  truth 
is  an  egregious  mistake.  This,  connected  with  the 
doctrine  of  '^perfection,"  invariably  leads  the  Quaker 
mind  into  the  belief  in  its  own  infallibility.  True, 
they  do  not  claim  infallibility.  They  reject  the  word — 
it  is  a  Roman  Catholic  word,  and  not  to  be  found  in 
"  Friends'  wi'itings."  But  what  means  the  constantly 
repeated  phrase,  "  best  wisdom  ?"  What  do  the  preach- 
ers mean,  when  they  call  upon  us  for  revei'ential  obe- 
dience to  them,  when  they  tell  us  ^'  it  has  been  given 
them"  to  direct  us?  What  mean  the  "concerns" 
which  the  preachers  so  very  often  have,  and  to  which 
they  expect  implicit  obedience  ?    What  mean  the 

evidences,"  but  that  the  preacher  has  some  peculiar 
mode  of  communicating  with  the  Almighty,  which  is 
19 


218 


MANCEUVRING  FOR  A  HUSBAND. 


of  equal,  if  not  greater  authority  than  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  "the  guide  of  all  other  Christians?  and 
which  they  certainly  enforce  with  an  authority  that 
infallibility  alone  can  claim. 

I  Avas  one  evening,  at  a  large  tea  party,  introduced 
to  a  very  beautiful  young  bride.  She  had  a  large 
figure,  well  and  most  gracefully  formed ;  the  roseate 
hue  of  her  cheek,  and  the  soft  brilliancy  of  her  down- 
cast eyes,  were  only  equalled  in  beauty  by  the  ex- 
quisitely fair  neck,  and  the  rich  dark  broAvn  hair, 
banded  in  the  smoothest  Madonna  style  on  her  lofty 
brow.  Her  dress  was  of  the  richest  dove-coloured 
satin ;  and  her  Quaker  cap,  and  neck-kerchief,  folded 
in  neat  plaits  across  her  bosom,  were  of  India's  most 
costly  muslin.  The  handkerchief  was  attached  to 
the  dress  by  a  gold  pin,  with  a  pearl  head ;  and  the 
belt  of  her  dress  was  fastened  in  front  by  two  more 
gold  pins,  each  with  a  diamond  head.  The  bride- 
groom was  a  very  small,  thin,  awkward,  ill-made  man ; 
his  face — from  which  every  morsel  of  whisker  had 
been  shaved  off — was  white,  flat,  and  meaningless ; 
and  his  dress,  though  quite  new,  was  badly  made,  and 
badly  put  on ;  it  was,  however,  a  strictly  Quaker 
costume. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  I  said  to  the  lady  who 
had  introduced  me,  "  How  ever  did  that  mean-looking 
little  man  manage  to  get  such  a  very  lovely  bride?" 
She  smiled,  and  answered,  "  Strange  as  it  may  seem, 
I  assure  thee,  it  was  Rachel  who  courted  him,  not  he 
her.    I  will  tell  thee  the  story.    About  four  years 


MAXOEUVRIXG  FOR  A  HUSBAXD. 


219 


ago,  Racliel's  younger  sister  was  married ;  and  she 
Avas  someAvhat  annoyed  that  she,  the  elder,  and  so 
much  the  handsomer,  shoukl  have  been  passed  by ;  so 
she  resolved  to  provide  herself  with  an  husband ;  and 
thou  knowest  when  a  woman  makes  up  her  mind  to 
do  a  thing,  she  triumphs  over  every  obstacle.  Ra- 
chel's fii'st  step  was  to  draw  out  a  list  of  the  names 
of  the  eligible  young  men ;  opposite  to  each  name  she 
placed  the  amount  of  his  annual  income,  as  correctly 
as  she  could  ascertain  it.  The  most  wealthy  was 
placed  at  the  top  of  the  list,  and  so  on  in  regular  gra- 
dation. She  had  twelve  names  down.  They  lived 
in  all  parts  of  England  ;  one  in  London,  one  in  York, 
one  in  Bristol,  and  so  on. 

"  Sylvanus  Otway  was  at  the  head  of  the  list.  She 
had  never  seen  him,  and  he  lived  near  Norwich.  He 
was  down  for  seven  thousand  a  year.  Rachel  seriously 
informed  her  father  and  mother,  that  she  had  "  a  con- 
cern" to  attend  the  Norwich  Quarterly  Meeting. 
They  had  no  acquaintances  they  cared  for  there,  and 
were  disinclined  to  take  so  long  a  journey  ;  but  Rachel 
became  so  silent  and  sad,  and  so  often  told  them  she 
was  burdened  with  the  weight  of  her  concern  to  go, 
.  that  they  at  length  yielded  to  her  wishes ;  and  father 
and  mother,  Rachel  and  her  sister  Susanna,  and  one 
of  the  brothers,  all  went  to  Norwich.  As  the  father 
and  mother  are  acknowledged  ministers,  of  course 
they  were  taken  much  notice  of,  and  invited  to  all 
the  Friends'  houses;  amongst  others,  to  Friend  Ot- 
way's,  and  Rachel  soon  had  the  pleasure  of  being  in- 


220  MANCEUVRING  FOR  A  HUSBAND. 


troduced  to  Sylvanus.  She  was  delighted  to  find  him 
a  fine,  handsome,  intelligent-looking  young  man,  and 
to  perceive  that  he  was  decidedly  fascinated  with  his 
new  acquaintances ;  and  when,  at  parting,  he  whispered 
to  her  sister,  loud  enough  for  Rachel  to  hear,  '  I  hope 
soon  to  be  in  your  city,  and  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
calling  at  your  house,'  her  cheek  flushed  with  triumph, 
and  her  heart  palpitated  with  joy,  at  the  success  of 
her  scheme.  Sylvanus  soon  followed  them,  as  he  had 
promised,  and  proposed  for  Susanna.  He  was  promptly 
accepted;  and  they  were  married  as  speedily  as  the 
rules  of  our  Society  would  permit.  Rachel  was  ex- 
ceeding vexed  and  disappointed;  but  she  is  not  a 
person  to  be  discomfited  by  one  failure,  so  she  re- 
solved to  try  again ;  but  she  has  never  been  friendly 
with  Susanna  since.  The  next  on  her  list  was  Josiah 
Gumble,  of  York,  and  his  income  was  six  thousand. 
Again  she  informed  her  father,  that  she  felt  it  was 
required  of  her  to  attend  the  York  Quarterly  Meet- 
ing; and  she  added,  'it  had  been  borne  in  on  her 
mind,  that  the  ministry  of  her  beloved  father,  at  that 
solemn  assembly,  would  be  blessed  to  some  waiting 
minds.' 

"  There  is  nothing  pleases  our  ministers  more  than 
flattery  of  their  preaching  gifts.  Rachel  is  an  adept 
at  it.  I  have  often  found  it  difiicult  to  keep  my  fea- 
tures in  sober  decorum,  when  I  have  heard  her  speak- 
ing of  the  inward  peace  she  had  felt  from  the  accept- 
able service  of  her  much  valued  Friends.  And  then 
she  presses  the  hand  of  the  minister  she  is  flattering, 


MANCEUVRIXG  FOR  A  HUSBAND. 


221 


with  so  much  feeling,  as  she  says ;  hut  they  like  it, 
and  Rachel  has  her  own  ends  in  view.  She  went  to 
York,  and  soon  obtained  the  desired  introduction  to 
Josiah  Gumble ;  he  too,  was  young,  and  passably 
Avell-looking ;  Rachel  contrived  to  be  very  much  in 
his  company ;  but  she  saw  clearly  that  he  could  not 
be  caught.  She  told  me  she  had  never  met  any  man 
who  was  so  coldly  insensible  to  beauty,  and  so  stupid- 
ly indifferent  to  flattery.  However,  Rachel  was  not 
disheartened;  for  it  soon  came  out,  that  Josiah  was 
the  victim  of  an  unrighteous  attachment  to  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  clergyman ;  for  love  of  whom,  he  deserted 
our  Israel,  and  is  now — alas  I  that  it  should  be  so — 
with  his  six  thousand  a  year,  gone  over  to  the  camp 
of  the  alien. 

"  The  third  on  Rachel's  list  was  John  Jones,  of 
London,  her  bridegroom  now;  he  is  worth  about  two 
thousand  a  year ;  and,  as  thou  must  see,  no  beauty. 
When  Rachel  first  saw  him,  she  was  half  inclined  to 
leave  him  for  somebody  else  ;  but  the  next  on  her  list 
is  only  six  hundred  a  year.  The  sacrifice  was  too 
great,  and  besides,  James  Lewis  might  be  as  mean- 
looking,  so  she  resolved  on  the  conquest  of  John 
J  ones.  It  was  very  easily  accomplished,  he  made  no 
resistance,  he  at  once  became  the  vrorshipper  of  her 
beauty;  and  now  that  they  are  married,  I  think  it 
will  be  her  own  fault  if  she  is  not  happy.  He  is  not 
very  wise,  but  he  is  good-humoured  and  good-natm*ed." 

'■^How  did  thou  become  acquainted  with  this  amus- 
ing story?"  said  1.  ''Is  it  not  a  breach  of  confidence 
19* 


222 


MANCEUVRING  FOR  A  HUSBAND. 


to  tell  it?"  ^'No,  indeed,"  she  replied,  'Hhere  were 
more  than  a  dozen  of  us  in  the  room  when  she  told  it 
herself,  and  showed  us  the  list ;  she  said  she  did  not 
want  it  now,  so  she  gave  it  to  Martha  Elton,  and  bade 
her  give  a  copy  of  it  to  any  of  the  girls  who  would 
like  to  try  the  same  plan  of  getting  settled  in  life." 

Several  years  elapsed  before  I  chanced  to  hear  any 
thing  more  of  the  beautiful  Rachel  Jones.  It  was  a 
sad  termination  to  her  career;  but  the  hypocritical 
system  of  her  youth  had  paved  the  way  for  her  dismal 
fall.  She  lived  for  a  couple  of  years  in  her  husband's 
splendid  domain,  surrounded  with  all  the  comforts  and 
luxuries  which  his  doating  fondness  could  accumulate 
about  her,  and  seemed  happy,  but  her  temper  was  not 
so  even,  or  her  spirits  so  joyous  as  formerly.  Then 
she  took  a  very  pious  fancy,  spoke  in  our  Meetings 
for  Discipline,  and  was  rising  in  the  Society.  She 
established  schools  for  the  poor  in  her  neighbourhood, 
and  being  very  strict  in  requiring  a  regular  attend- 
ance from  her  pupils,  she  would  go  herself  to  their 
cottages  to  inquire  the  cause  of  absence.  This  often 
brought  her  into  contact  with  scenes  of  poverty,  sick- 
ness, and  sorrow.  She  gave  up  attendance  at  the 
school,  and  devoted  her  time  to  visiting  the  poor. 
There  she  would  go,  day  after  day,  attended  by  her 
own  coachman,  carrying  food  and  clothes,  for  her  to 
distribute,  as  she  saw  they  were  needed.  She  would 
read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  to  the  sick,  and  she  would 
kneel  down  and  pray  beside  the  bed  of  suffering. 
Then  wearied  in  body,  and  exhausted  in  mind,  she 


MAXCEUYRIXG  FOR  A  HUSBAND. 


223 


would  return  home,  generally  leaning  on  the  coach- 
man's arm.  This  continued  for  months  to  be  her 
daily  habit,  during  which  time  her  husband  minded 
the  house  and  children,  for  she  had  two  fine  boys ;  and 
though  he  regretted  that  the  poor,  and  the  coachman 
should  so  engross  his  wife's  attention,  still  he  expected 
that,  like  the  school,  the  fancy  would  soon  wear  itself 
out. 

One  day,  she  did  not  return  as  usual ;  Aveek  after 
week  passed,  and  no  tidings  came  of  her.  She  had 
taken  up,  at  several  times,  large  sums  of  money  in  her 
husband's  name,  as  he  had  from  the  first,  resigned  to 
her,  as  she  wished  it,  the  entire  management  of  his 
property;  about  ten  thousand  pounds,  it  was  supposed, 
she  had  in  her  possession  when,  with  the  coachman, 
who  was  an  Irish  Roman  Catholic,  a  handsome  young 
man,  she  sailed  for  America — there,  under  the  name 
of  Mrs.  Patrick  Murphy,  she  terminated  her  unhappy 
career  before  one  year  had  elapsed. 

jSTo  notice,  that  I  ever  heard  of,  was  taken  of  her 
conduct  by  the  Monthly  Meeting  to  which  she  belong- 
ed. It  was  thought  more  expedient  to  let  her  drop 
away  unnoticed,  than,  by  disowning  her  for  immorality, 
to  allow  any  record  to  appear  on  the  books,  of  this 
sin  baring  ever  been  heard  of  amongst  us. 

Is  is,  indeed,  a  rare  sin  amongst  the  Women 
Friends.  The  few  instances  of  it,  that  have  come 
under  my  knowledge,  have  all  been  in  families  in  which 
the  mother  was  a  preacher. 

A  refined  purity,  in  word,  thought,  and  deed,  is  an 


224 


ELOPEMENTS. 


almost  universal  attribute  of  the  Quaker  ladies.  Nor 
must  it  be  thought  that  the  numerous  elopements 
Tvhich  take  place,  result  from  any  deficiency  of  this 
principle;  but  the  heart  will  flutter  and  throb  as 
Tvildly  under  the  neat  folds  of  a  Quaker  costume,  as 
beneath  gauze  and  lace,  when  the  shaft  of  a  young 
love  has  pierced  it  deeply. 

When  a  Quaker  girl  forms  an  attachment  for  a 
person,  "not  of  our  Society,"  no  matter  how  suitable 
a  connection — no  matter  how  good  his  character,  or 
how  unobjectionable  he  may  be,  she  is  required  to  re- 
fuse him.  Her  father  and  mother,  she  knows,  would 
themselves,  be  turned  out  of  Meeting,  were  they  to 
consent  to  the  marriage.  She  feels  that  although  the 
rules  of  the  Society  hedge  in  her  way,  yet  that  no  law 
of  God  confronts  her;  and  therefore  not  to  subject 
herself  to  the  possibility  of  disobeying  her  parents, 
she  elopes,  generally,  in  the  very  simplest  and  least 
improper  of  all  ways.  Her  name  is  called  in  the 
Church  three  times  ;  no  Quaker  is  there  to  hear  of  it, 
or  to  tell  the  overseers ;  and  she  just  walks  quietly 
from  her  father's  house,  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  comes 
home  a  bride. 

The  parents,  to  escape  the  censure  of  the  Society, 
and  the  inquisitorial  annoyance  of  the  overseers,  in- 
variably assume  the  appearance  of  indignation  for  a 
short  time.  The  daughter  understands  their  feio;ned 
displeasure,  but  real  afi*ection  for  her  and  her  husband ; 
she  keeps  at  a  distance  from  them,  until  the  overseers 
have  got  some  other  occupation  to  engage  their  atten- 


ELOPEMEXTS, 


225 


tion,  and  then  cordiality,  both  in  reality  and  in  ap- 
pearance, is  resumed. 

This  is  very  frequently  the  true  state  of  the  case, 
although,  no  doubt,  many  Quaker  girls  have  eloped 
without  so  good  an  excuse.  Some,  anxious  by  any 
means,  to  escape  the  disagreeable  sui'veillance  they 
were  subjected  to  by  their  overstrict  relatives,  have 
been  too  precipitate,  and  too  rashly  confiding. 

On  the  occasion  of  one  elopement,  the  whole  Society 
was  thrown  into  a  ferment.  It  was  a  young  woman 
who  had  been  educated  most  guardedly,  that  is,  who 
had  been  carefully  kept  from  all  communication  with 
"the  people  of  the  world;"  from  books  and  news- 
papers, and  even  from  associating  with  any  Friends' 
families,  but  those  who  were  of  the  utmost  orthodoxy ; 
whose  chief  employment  was  hemming  muslin,  and 
attendinor  Meetings,  and  whose  greatest  indulD;ence 
was  to  be  allowed  out  to  tea  with  the  ministers  and 
overseers. 

Youth  must  have  some  excitement,  and  she  was 
naturally  ambitious  of  distinction ;  that  inherent  trait 
of  her  character  developed  itself,  in  the  only  accessi- 
ble way  allowed  by  the  rules ;  she  became  a  preacher. 
Her  youth,  her  good  looks,  and  her  pleasing  voice, 
combined  with  her  grave  and  extra-sober  demeanor, 
soon  satisfied  her  Meeting  that  she  was  raised  up  to 
be  what  the  Society  now-a-days  sadly  wants,  "  a 
standard  bearer,  an  inspired  minister."  Many  and 
many  a  private  meeting  was  held  by  ministers  and 
elders,  that  each  might  tell  the  others,  what  was  the 


226    EDUCATION  UNNECESSSARY  FOR  A  PREACHER. 


feeling  of  their  minds  on  the  important  question  of 
allowing  her  a  seat  in  our  gallery,"  and  after  in- 
quiring into  the  ''feeling"  of  all  the  plain  Friends 
all  over  the  country,  and  they  unanimously  agreeing 
that  Jane  ought  to  be  acknowledged  as  an  inspired 
minister,  she  was  so  appointed,  and  took  her  seat,  to 
the  great  delight  of  her  relatives,  who  were  proud  of 
her  elevation.  To  have  a  preacher  in  the  family, 
confers  a  reflected  estimation  on  it. 

"When  the  ministers  and  elders  are  considering  of 
the  suitability  of  appointing  a  minister,  they  make  no 
account  of  education,  that  they  professedly  despise ; 
they  make  no  inquiry,  even  into  the  candidate's 
knowledge  of  Scripture — no  examination  whatever  is 
considered  necessary.  They  decide  wholly  and  en- 
tirely from  their  "feelings,"  and  they  profess  them- 
selves to  wait  for  inspiration,  which  comes  to  them 
always,  and  only  through  "feeling."  Hence  the 
great  difficulty  they  sometimes  suffer  under,  when  an 
acknowledged  minister  has  proved  indisputably,  that 
she  is  not  "  inspired  ;"  they  must,  in  testifying  against 
her  evil  deeds,  admit  that  their  own  inspiration,  when 
acknowledging  her,  was  not  from  "unerring  and  best 
wisdom."  G]  ave  offences  are  often  passed  over  in  a 
minister,  rather  than  that  an  open  admission  should 
be  on  record,  of  the  possibility  of  the  Meeting  of 
ministers  and  elders  making  a  mistake,  which  strikes 
at  this  fundamental  doctrine  of  the  Society. 

Jane  being  now  a  minister,  was  consequently  given 
a  pre-eminence  over  her  parents,  and  no  longer  con- 


ELOPEMENT. 


227 


sidered  herself  in  subjection  to  them.  She  tyrannized 
over  them,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  family,  by  her 
numerous  "concerns"  for  their  spiritual  welfare,  to 
which  she  required  and  obtained  implicit  submission. 
She  had  entire  liberty  to  go  in  and  out  as  she  pleased, 
and  might  tell  or  not  tell  where  she  had  been.  Jane 
enjoyed  her  new-found  liberty,  and  made  full  use  of 
it.  She  soon  found  out,  that  the  people  of  the 
world"  are  not  all  quite  so  bad  as  she  had  been  taught 
to  consider  them ;  and  having  been  kept  from  tempta- 
tion by  the  seclusion  of  her  former  life,  not  by  sound 
scriptural  principle,  which  is  the  only  true  repellant 
of  temptation,  poor  Jane  could  not  resist  the  flatter- 
ing attentions  of  a  respectable  and  handsome  suitor, 
who  spoke  to  her  of  feelings  which  her  woman's  heart 
could  well  understand,  whilst  he  laughed  at  her  idea 
of  "waiting  for  a  feeling"  on  which  to  guide  her  con- 
duct. She  eloped  and  married  him,  and  was  never 
forgiven  by  her  parents,  or  by  the  Society. 

Friends,  as  a  body,  are  extremely  vindictive  and 
unforgiving.  Parents  will  often,  at  the  instigation  of 
the  Meeting,  and  to  escape  blame  themselves,  perse- 
cute their  offending  children  with  exceeding  severity ; 
and  as  the  Society  refuses  to  take  any  cognizance  of 
unkindness,  or  of  unchristian  severity,  or  injustice, 
unless  the  sufterer  be  "a  member,"  the  persecutor 
feels  encouraged,  thinking,  that  if  the  Society  really 
consider  his  conduct  improper,  the  overseers  would  be 
only  too  glad  to  call  upon  him. 

So  it  is  in  regard  of  law-suits.    The  rule  is  very 


228 


METHOD  OF  TAKING  REVENGE. 


stringent,  that  Friend  may  not  go  to  law  with  Friend ; 
but  Friends  may  go  to  law  with  "  the  people  of  the 
world,"  as  much  and  as  often  as  they  please.  A 
Friend  may  be  guilty  of  the  meanest,  and  shabbiest, 
and  most  dishonorable  conduct,  and  provided  it  is  only 
one  of  "the  people  of  the  world"  who  suffers,  his 
Meeting  takes  no  notice  of  it,  unless  there  be  danger 
of  such  publicity  as  may  damage  the  well-established 
character  of  the  Society.  And  if  a  Friend  wishes  to 
go  to  law  with  a  Friend,  he  can  manage  that  too.  He 
has  only  to  press  his  broad  brim  more  tightly  on  his 
brow  in  Meetings ;  to  be  more  devoted  in  his  attention 
to  the  high,  plain  Friends ;  squeeze  the  ministers'  hands 
as  they  come  out  of  Meeting  after  speaking,  and  in- 
gratiate himself  with  the  overseers ;  and  if  he  is  a 
moneyed  man,  lay  them  under  pecuniary  obligations, 
and  the  difficulty  which  the  "rules"  opposed  to  his 
wishes,  vanishes.  He  can  invent,  or  he  can  find  out, 
some  flaw  in  his  adversary's  Quakerism,  and  have  him 
put  under  dealing,  which  being  conducted  on  a  most 
provoking  and  irritating  system  of  domiciliary  visits, 
generally  results  in  the  victim  sending  in  his  resigna- 
tion of  membership,  for  the  sake  of  getting  rid  of  it. 

There  are  other  ways  of  eluding  the  rules.  This  I 
have  described  is  the  most  common ;  for  when  once 
the  resignation  is  sent  in.  Friend  Broadbrim  can  go 
to  law,  uncensured  and  unnoticed. 

I  knew  an  instance  where  a  man,  who  was  very 
rich,  and  of  high  standing  in  his  Meeting — that  is, 
Avho  was  sometimes  appointed  representative  to  Lon- 


METHOD  OF  TAKING  REVENGE.  229 

don,  sometimes  made  clerk  of  the  Quarterly  Meeting, 
who  spoke  in  the  meetings  of  discipline,  and  kept  an 
excellent  table,  to  which  the  ministers,  elders,  and 
overseers  always  had  a  ready  access.  This  man  was 
a  violent  radical,  and  quarreled  irreconcilably  with 
another  Friend,  for  refusing  to  join  with  him  in  some 
rather  dubious  demonstrations  in  favour  of  the  radical 
candidate  for  parliamentary  honours.  He  who  refused 
was  a  conservative,  and  well  known  to  be  so ;  but 
Friend  Gregory  had  found  so  many  only  too  glad  to 
have  it  in  their  power  to  please  him,  that  he  was  mor- 
tified and  indignant  that  one  whom  he  had  the  power 
either  to  serve  or  to  injure,  should  refuse,  and,  more 
than  that,  should  dare  to  assign  a  conscientious  reason 
for  not  doing  his  behest.  Gregory  had  evinced  on 
other  occasions  a  somewhat  vindictive  spirit.  He  now 
commenced  to  work  on  the  plan  he  had  cautiously  laid 
to  ruin  the  offender.  He  all  of  a  sudden  became  very 
friendly  with  his  victim,  appeared  to  enter  with  kind- 
liness into  his  affairs,  and  offered  to  lend  him  a  con- 
siderable sum  of  money.  He  thus  obtained  easily 
the  knowledge  he  required  of  the  private  history,  and 
the  connections  of  the  other,  who  was  unsuspicious,  and 
credulously  confiding  in  what  he  deemed  the  wonder- 
ful kindliness  of  Gregory.  Trouble  after  trouble  came 
now  upon  him.  Like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  they  fol- 
lowed each  other  in  rapid  succession,  and  in  an  unac- 
countable manner ;  but  he  was  a  Christian  man,  and 
bore  up  bravely  against  the  flood.  At  last  a  near 
relative  died,  and  in  his  will  gave  strange  reasons  for 
20 


230 


METHOD  OF  TAKING  REVENGE. 


alienating  some  property  which  he  had  expected. 
This  led  to  inquiry,  and  it  was  found,  by  the  papers 
of  the  deceased,  that  Gregory  had  long  been  in  cor- 
respondence with  him  ;  and,  whilst  sympathizing  hy- 
pocritically with  his  victim's  afflictions,  had  been 
slandering  him  most  foully.  When  discovered  he  threw 
oif  the  mask,  and  became  an  open  and  formidable 
enemy.  The  victim  addressed  the  Monthly  Meeting 
on  the  subject  of  the  wrongs  which  Gregory  had  in- 
flicted on  him,  and  asked  the  overseers  to  restrain  him, 
according  to  the  rules,  from  the  persecution  he  was 
so  wilfully  pursuing  ;  but  the  overseers  were  Gregory's 
own  people,  and  the  whole  Meeting  was  at  his  feet. 
Their  letter  in  reply,  which  I  have  seen,  was  a  very 
curious  specimen  of  Quaker  justice.  They  said,  they 
had  been  deeply  pained  to  find  that  any  one  had  ac- 
cused their  esteemed  Friend  Gregory  of  persecution ; 
that  they  had  several solid  Meetings"  to  consider 
of  so  grievous  a  complaint ;  that  the  result  of  their 
waiting  for  the  inspiration  of  best  wisdom  had  been, 
to  summon  Gregory  before  them,  and  to  read  to  him 
the  letter  of  accusation ;  that  it  was  done  in  a  very 
weighty  manner,  as  became  so  grave  a  charge ;  and 
that  they  had  been  exceedingly  relieved  by  that  dear 
Friend  informing  them  that  it  was  all  a  mistake  ;  that 
he  was  incapable  of  such  base  conduct  as  he  had  been 
charged  with ;  that  so  far  from  his  wishing  to  injure, 
his  heart  overflowed  with  love  to  his  tried  Friend  ;  and 
they  added,  that  as  it  w^as  impossible  to  alter  the  high 
opinion  they  entertained  of  so  consistent  a  Friend  as 


METHOD  OF  TAKIXG  REVEXGE. 


231 


Gregory,  it  was  no  use  whatever  to  address  them  again 
on  the  subject. 

There  was,  however,  one  minister  in  that  Meeting, 
whom  Gregory  was  fearful  had  misgivings.  The  mi- 
nister was  influential,  and  it  would  be  inconvenient 
should  he  look  too  curiously  into  the  matter.  It  was 
necessary  to  blind  his  eyes,  and  none  knew  better 
than  Gregory  how  easily  that  might  be  done.  The 
minister  was  poor,  comparatively,  and  had  a  large 
family.  Gregory  was  a  notoriously  benevolent  man, 
a  large  subscriber  to  all  the  charities.  It  was  only 
w^hat  might  be  expected,  that  he  should  call  on  the 
minister,  express  sympathy  at  the  pressure  which  the 
wants  of  so  numerous  a  family  entailed  on  one  whose 
mind  ought  to  be  relieved  from  sublunary  cares,  that 
he  might  the  better  be  enabled  to  attend  to  his  high 
calling ;  and  Gregory  begged  his  acceptance  of  a  note 
for  five  hundred  pounds,  which  the  other  accepted, 
and  never  since  has  had  mis2;ivincrs  of  the  rectitude 
of  that  ornament  of  our  Society,  Friend  Gregory. 

The  illusion  caused  by  the  most  splendid  scenery 
is  dissipated  when  one  gets  a  peep  behind  the  scenes. 
Many  a  house  is  neat  and  clean  outside,  and  very 
dirty  within.  There  is  a  time  coming,  when  things 
will  be  revealed  of  "  that  respectable  body,  the  So- 
ciety of  Friends,"  which  the  world  noAV  little  dreams 
of. 

Friends  claim  for  themselves,  both  publicly  and 
privately,  the  honour  of  being  free  from  the  sin  of 
persecution.    Not  long  since,  I  observed  a  letter 


232         DISOWNMENT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES. 

written  by  some  one  of  them,  to  one  of  the  periodi- 
cals, boklly  demanding  a  public  recognition  of  this 
claim. 

There  is  nothing  in  Quakerism  to  prevent  a  man 
persecuting  his  fellow.    On  the  contrary,  there  is 
very  much  in  the  system  calculated  to  encourage  the 
growth  of  that  spirit.    When  the  Meeting  testifies 
against  any  infraction  of  its  rules,  and  the  offender 
has  been  "disowned,"  every  relative  and  connection 
he  has  is  called  upon  to  persecute  him.    He  is  not  a 
Friend  now.    Friends  are  advised  not  to  associate 
with  any  but  Friends.    He  is  cut  off  from  domestic 
and  social  companionship.    Is  not  that  persecution  ? 
What  crime  has  he  been  guilty  of,  that  he  is  thus  se- 
vered from  all  the  associates  of  youth  ?    Why  do  all 
his  old  friends  look  so  coldly  on  him  ?    Why  do  they 
put  an  evil  construction  on  his  every  act  and  word  ? 
Why  seem  to  watch  over  him  for  evil  ?  and  why  pro- 
phesy of  his  ultimate  fall  ?    Why  do  they  refuse, 
with  a  mysterious  reservation,  to  bear  witness  to  his 
honourable  conduct,  to  his  integrity,  or  to  his  moral 
worth,  whilst  among  them  ?    They  profess  to  cast 
him  off ;  they  do  so,  in  such  a  way  as  that,  if  they 
can  help  it,  he  shall  never  get  on.    And  what  is  the 
crime  ?    Perhaps  he  has  attended  the  service  of  the 
Parish  Church ;  or  has  allowed  his  daughters  to  learn 
music ;  or  has  dressed  himself  or  his  family  in  mourn- 
ing for  a  father,  a  mother,  or  a  wife ;  or  has  paid 
tithes ;  or  has  accompanied  his  sister  when  she  was 
going  to  be  married  in  the  Church ;  or,  perhaps,  he 


DISOWNMEXT  AXD  ITS  COXSEQUEXCES.  233 


has  brought  dishonour  on  the  Society  by  a  failure  in 
his  business.  True,  he  has  tokl  the  overseer  how  that 
faikire  was  caused,  by  some  Friends,  high  in  the  Meet- 
ins:,  havino;  taken  an  unfair  advantase  of  him :  havino; 
advised  him  to  take  the  unfortunate  step  he  did,  with 
the  understanding,  that  though  their  names  were  not 
to  appear,  they  woukl  back  him  privately.  He  has 
shown  that  the  positive  fraud  of  a  ''high  Friend"  has 
overwhelmed  him  ;  he  has  intreated  for  merc}',  for  he 
dreads  the  effects  of  disownment.  But  all  in  vain. 
He  is  sharply  reproved  for  "  highly  improper  con- 
duct," in  mentioning  the  names  of  the  Friends  he  has 
inculpated :  and  he  is  tauntingly  reminded  that  he 
has  been  lax  in  the  observance  of  our  rules,  for  a 
lengthened  period.  A  quick  glance  at  his  coat  tells 
him  that  now  a  standing  collar,  and  a  rounded  skirt 
would  have  served  his  cause  ;  and  the  mention  of  our 
overseer,  Martha  Wrigley's  name,  brings  to  his  recol- 
lection the  repeated  visits  of  that  "important  Friend," 
to  his  wife  and  to  himself,  to  remonstrate  with  him  on 
the  sin  of  having  his  daughters  taught  to  play  on  the 
piano. 

I  have  seldom  known  an  instance  of  a  member  beins: 
disowned  for  sin.  But  for  being  unfortunate,  and  for 
transgressing  the  rules  of  the  Society,  paying  tithes, 
marrying  out  of  Meeting — often,  very  often.  But  for 
sin,  never,  unless  compelled  by  publicity.  Sin  is 
passed  over,  rather  than  have  such  things  recorded 
on  the  books. 

There  is  nothing  in  Quakerism,  as  I  have  known 
20* 


234 


INFIDELITY. 


it,  to  prevent  an  humble,  loving  spirit  from  meekly- 
drinking  the  waters  of  salvation.  The  Holy  Scrip- 
tures may  be  freely  read  in  private,  and  they  can  ac- 
complish their  own  mighty  work  on  the  hearts  of  the 
upright  and  true  followers  of  the  Lamb.  But  there 
is  nothing  in  Quakerism,  so  far  as  I  have  known  it,  to 
prevent  the  commission  of  crime,  to  preserve  from 
temptation,  or  to  make  the  road  to  heaven  one  whit 
more  accessible,  by  all  the  various  and  specious  de- 
vices which  "  the  best  wisdom  of  our  worthy  prede- 
cessors" has  ordained,  than  that  plain,  straightfor- 
ward way,  which  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John,  in 
the  good  old  times,  pointed  out  to  us. 

I  have  often  met  with  open  infidelity  under  the 
name  of  Quakerism ;  and  a  teacher  in  Friends'  fami- 
lies, a  pious  man,  has  lately  informed  me  that,  with 
very  few  exceptions,  the  young  Quakers,  his  pupils, 
are  groAying  up  infidels. 


COUNTRY  MEETIXGS. 


235 


CHAPTER  XIL 

Country  Meetings  in  England  and  Wales — The  Ethiopian  and  the 
Leopard — Bonnet  and  Hat  essential  to  Friends'  worship — A  doubt- 
ful Minister — Sleepy  old  Friend — Dry  Meetings — Exhortation  to 
assist  in  the  ministry,  and  honour  promised  to  reward  compliance 
— Story  of  poor  Mary — St.  Paul's  want  of  politeness — Sitting  on 
Dress — Funeral  Customs — Schism — Overseers'  method  of  getting 
Information — Wedding  at  an  Inn. 

I  HAVE  had  several  opportunities  of  attending  the 
small  country  Meetings  in  England  and  Wales.  In 
one  of  them  we  sat  doAvn  in  number  eight  persons,  one 
of  them  was  a  child  of  about  six  years  old.  The  room 
•was  large  enough  to  hold  a  couple  of  hundred  people, 
and  was  cold  and  damp.  We  took  our  seats  in  right 
order  ;  the  plainest  dressed  man  and  woman  sat  front- 
ing the  empty  room,  and  the  rest  of  us  on  the  top 
seats.  The  silence  and  the  chilly  feel  soon  became 
painful.  The  child  did  not  miderstand  or  enjoy  it. 
He  slipped  down  quietly  off  the  seat  behind  his  father, 
and  ran  over  to  his  mother,  saying,  audibly,  "  Oh  ! 
Mamma,  let  us  come  aAvay."  She  tried  to  keep  him 
silent,  and  succeeded  for  a  few  minutes ;  but  there 
was  a  very  pretty  girl  near,  and  he  again  forgot  de- 
corum, and  said  aloud,  "Mamma,  that  Friend  has  a 
very  nice  face."  This  unusual  breaking  of  the  silence 


236 


THE  ETHIOPIAN  AND  THE  LEOPARD. 


upset  the  gravity  of  all.  The  friends  on  the  raised 
seat  shook  hands,  and  the  only  public  worship  which 
these  Friends  had  on  that  Sabbath  day  was  concluded. 
They  had  sat  in  the  Meeting-room  for  just  one  hour. 
I  was  sorry  to  hear  afterwards,  that  the  child  had  been 
severely  punished  for  his  disturbance  of  the  assembly ; 
and  not  surprised,  when  told,  that  the  pretty  girl  had 
married  the  Curate  of  the  Parish  Church,  to  which 
she  was  in  the  regular  habit  of  going,  as  soon  as  ever 
the  mockery  of  a  Meeting,  which  her  parents  con- 
strained her  to  attend,  was  over. 

At  another  country  Meeting  which  we  were  told  had 
the  great  advantage  of  a  resident  minister,  we  sat 
down,  about  forty  in  number,  many  of  whom,  like 
ourselves,  were  strangers.  After  some  twenty  minutes 
silence,  the  minister  rose  to  address  us.  He  did  not 
use  any  opening  text,  but  in  the  course  of  his  rambling 
oration,  he  made  use  of  these  words — Can  the  Ethio- 
pian change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots  ?  No, 
my  friends,  they  cannot,  because  they  are  both  brute 
beasts,  and  they  perish  together."  When  the  Meet- 
ing was  over,  many  spoke  and  laughed  at  the  mistake, 
but  none,  as  if  they  deemed  such  ignorance  sinful  in  a 
professed  minister  of  the  Christian  Religion. 

Travelling  through  South  Wales,  we  were  told  one 
Sabbath  morning  that  there  was  a  Friends'  Meeting 
held  in  the  house  of  a  Friend,  and  that  it  was  according 
to  law,  a  registered  place  of  worship.  We  resolved  to 
attend  it,  and  went  there ;  it  a  was  a  gentleman's  com- 
fortable house,  surrounded  by  a  small,  well-kept  lawn. 


COUNTRY  MEETINGS. 


23T 


and  gardens.  The  owner,  his  wife,  and  brother,  con- 
stituted the  usual  assembly.  We  were  cordially  wel- 
comed at  the  door,  as  an  acceptable  addition  to  the 
Meeting.  The  drawing-room,  a  very  elegant  apart- 
ment, light,  cheerful,  and  decorated  with  numerous 
articles  of  taste  and  vertu  was  the  meeting-room. 
The  lady  retired  for  a  few  moments,  and  returned 
with  her  Friends'  bonnet  and  shawl  on,  her  husband 
then  slipped  down  stairs,  and  came  back  with  his  hat 
on.  Then  we  all  sat  down,  and  "  dropped  into  silence." 
It  had  not  continued  five  minutes,  when  the  owner  of 
the  house  got  fidgetty,  and  jumping  up,  said.  ''I  do 
not  think  we  can  manage  a  silent  Meeting  well.  Shall 
I  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  ?"  We  all  assented,  and 
he  laid  on  the  beautifully  inlaid  table,  a  magnificent 
copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptui-es,  from  which  he  read  two 
chapters  and  a  psalm ;  a  two-minutes  pause  succeeded, 
and  then  he  turned  round  on  his  chair,  and  gravely 
shook  hands  with  me.  Meeting  was  over,  and  we 
began  to  chat ;  he  insisted  we  should  remain  and  dine 
with  him,  as  he  said  Friends  always  did  when  they 
attended  that  Meeting.  And  his  wife  proposed  a  walk, 
which  we  all  enjoyed  very  much ;  the  day  was  fine, 
and  the  scenery  quite  new  to  me,  the  mountain  air 
invigorating,  and  our  companions  intelligent  and  ex- 
ceedingly agreeable. 

The  lady  laughingly  told  me,  that  she  always  put 
on  her  bonnet,  and  her  husband  his  hat,  when  sitting 
in  their  drawing-room — their  make-believe  Meeting- 
house, on  first  days;  "but,"  said  she,  "it  would  not 


238 


A  DOUBTFUL  MINISTER. 


feel  like  a  Friends'  Meeting,  unless  we  had  on  those 
appendages  of  our  Society."  She  told  me  that  "her 
husband  had  subscribed  several  hundred  pounds  for 
the  building  of  a  large  church  which  was  quite  near 
them  ;  that  she  often  thought  it  would  be  more  sensi- 
ble to  go  there  to  worship,  that  the  minister  was  a 
valued  friend  of  theirs,  and  that  they  could  not  see 
anything  wrong  in  the  service  of  the  Church;  but 
that,  as  it  would  expose  them  to  so  much  annoyance 
from  the  Society,  they  kept  on  the  old  way,  sitting 
silent  first  with  hat  and  bonnet  on,  for  the  name  of 
the  thing,  and  then  reading  the  Bible  for  edification." 

I  attended  for  several  months  a  country  Meeting, 
in  which  there  was  one  woman  preacher.  She,  and 
one  overseer,  for  company-sake  beside  her,  and  an 
old,  plain,  w^hite-haired  man,  who,  though  he  had  no 
appointment,  was,  on  account  of  his  wealth  and  his 
orthodox  appearance,  approved  of,  sat  in  the  upper  or 
preaching  gallery.  The  Meeting  was  principally  com- 
posed of  young  people,  several  large  families  living  in 
the  neighbourhood.  The  preacher's  gift  was  very 
small.  She  would  sometimes  repeat  the  same  sermon 
over  and  over  again.  Some  thought  she  had  but  one 
text,  so  committed  to  memory  as  to  be  able  to  repeat 
it  aloud.  She  was  a  very  proud  woman,  and  took 
offence  readily,  when  not  treated  with  that  deference 
w^hich  she  conceived  her  appointment  to  the  ministry 
entitled  her  to.  Her  husband  was  also  a  very  plain 
Friend ;  but  there  were  some  rather  dubious  money 
transactions,  in  which  both  were  involved,  which  made 


SLEEPY  OLD  FRIEND. 


239 


this  Friend's  preaching  be  received  more  coldly  than 
usual.  Plain  Friends  may  do  pretty  much  what  they 
please.  The  discipline  of  the  Society  is  never  rigidly 
enforced,  when  the  outward  appearance  is  in  all 
points  regulated  by  the  standard  of  orthodox  Quaker- 
ism. It  is  not  considered  desirable  to  interfere ;  for 
it  is  so  unpleasant  to  have  to  put  a  Friend,  whom  we 
have  already  acknowledged  to  be  an  inspired  minister 
of  our  Society,  under  dealing,  that  the  sin  is  covered  as 
much  as  possible.  But  if  the  truth  be  whispered  about, 
such  ministers  generally  consider  it  prudent  to  absent 
themselves  very  much  from  Meeting,  under  the  con- 
venient plea  of  indisposition ;  or  if  they  do  go,  it  is  to 
sit  up  on  their  elevated  seats,  but  generally  in  silence. 

Sabbath  after  Sabbath,  these  young  people  sat  in 
that  Meeting-house,  without  hearing  one  word  to  en- 
lighten their  understandings,  or  to  teach  them  how  to 
attain  salvation,  or  to  worship  God  aright.  The  old 
man,  after  making  divers  twitchings  and  contortions, 
indicative  of  a  determined  resistance  to  the  somniferous 
influence  of  the  silent  Meeting,  would  invariably  yield 
to  it.  It  was  almost  impossible  for  any  one  present 
to  avoid  looking  at  him,  as  he  sat  directly  raised  up 
in  front  of  us ;  his  head  bobbing  from  side  to  side, 
first  very  gently,  then  as  the  sleep  grew  deeper,  down 
it  would  sink  lower  and  lower,  until  at  last  one  great 
di'op  down  would  rouse  him  up,  to  open  his  eyes,  and 
look  about  him,  in  a  kind  of  wild  way,  as  if  he  would 
say  to  the  bright  young  eyes  he  saw  gazing  up  to  him 
— "  How  dare  you  think  I  would  go  to  sleep  in  Meet- 


240 


SLEEPY  OLD  FRIEND. 


ing?"  He  was  generally  roused  to  break  up  Meet- 
ing, by  the  ringing  of  the  Church  bell,  which  was 
very  conveniently  timed  to  do  so.  But  on  one  occa- 
sion, even  that  did  not  wake  him — he  slept  soundly ; 
and  the  Meeting  sat  on,  wearily  watching  his  awak- 
ing. Half  an  hour  longer  than  usual,  sitting  in  a 
silent  Quaker  Meeting,  is  no  small  trial  of  patient  en- 
durance. At  last  it  became  unbearable,  and  a  man 
Friend,  sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  Meeting,  shuffled 
his  feet  about,  and  making  a  noise,  rose  up  to  depart. 
This  example  was  followed  by  all  the  rest ;  and  the 
sleeper  awoke  to  find  Meeting  broke  up,  without  his 
usual  shake  of  hands.  He  was  very  angry  about  it; 
and  his  sons,  tall,  stalwart  men,  threatened  to  chas- 
tise the  individual  who  had  infringed  on  their  father's 
prerogative. 

A  gentleman  told  me  he  had  stopped  a  Friend  one 
day  in  the  street  of  a  large  city  to  speak  to  him  on 
business.  Ah!  Robert,  said  the  Quaker,  ''I  am  glad 
to  see  thee,  but  I  can't  talk  to  thee  now ;  I  am  just 
going  to  our  AYeek  Day  Meeting.  Will  thee  come 
and  sit  a  bit  with  us?"  "Well,  Sir,"  replied  the  gen- 
tleman, "I  have  no  objection,  since  you  ask  me — I 
will  go  with  you."  They  went  and  sat  together;  the 
meeting  was  a  silent  one,  and  lasted  an  hour.  When 
it  was  over,  the  Friend  addressed  his  companion — 
^'Well,  Robert,  how  does  thee  feel  after  that?  Dry 
work,  is  it  not  ?  Come  with  me  now,  there  is  a  tavern 
close  by,  and  we'll  get  something  more  comfortable 
for  ourselves." 


DRY  MEETINGS. 


241 


A  silent  Meeting  is  technically  called,  a  dry  meet- 
ing, in  contra-distinction  to  the  streams  of  living 
waters  which  are  considered  as  flowing  from  the  lips 
of  acknowledged  ministers. 

I  was  now  living,  as  Friends  say,  within  the  com- 
pass of  a  highly-favoured  meeting,  that  is.  We  had  an 
unusually  large  staff  of  preachers.  We  had  six  ac- 
knowledged ministers,  and  four  candidates  for  that 
honour ;  besides  this,  we  often  had  visits  from  travel- 
ling Friends.  Several  of  these  came  to  our  city  under 
'•the  weight  of  a  concern  to  sit  with  Friends  in  their 
families,"  and  I,  of  course,  came  in  for  my  share  of 
their  visitations. 

There  was  a  woman  Friend,  on  one  of  those  occa- 
sions, whose  address  pleased  me  very  much.  Her 
concern  was  to  urge  on  us  the  frequent  and  prayerful 
reading  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  importance  of  know- 
ing our  own  impotence,  and  our  need  of  the  guiding 
light  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Our  old  acquaintance,  the  great  John  Earl,  also 
paid  us  a  family  visit.  He  hon.oured  us  especially  by 
volunteering  to  dine  with  us,  and  was  cordially  wel- 
comed, as  every  one  was,  who  came  to  our  house,  as 
a  messenger  from  Christ.  To  my  delight,  he  came 
without  the  usual  attendant.  His  conversation  both 
before,  and  at  dinner,  was  entertaining  and  instruc- 
tive, but  at  last  he  dropt  into  the  well-known  ominous 
silence.  His  concern  was  different  from  any  of  the 
other  Friends;  it  was,  ''that  my  husband  might  be 
made  willing  to  yield  himself  up  to  the  work  of  the 
21 


242  EXHORTATION. 

ministry ;  and  that  I  might  be  an  help-meet  for  him 
in  so  arduous  a  vocation. ' '  He  said  he  had  long  thought 
his  dear  friend  was  pre-eminently  qualified  for  a  seat 
in  our  gallery,  that  his  commanding  figure,  and  his 
rich  deep  toned  voice,  were  gifts  which  ought  to  be 
cast  into  the  Lord's  treasury."  He  spoke  for  several 
minutes  in  the  most  flattering  manner  of  our  connec- 
tions, position  in  .the  Society,  and  of  the  prominent 
part  which  he  considered  we  were  both  designed  to 
take  in  the  management  of  it,  and  he  assured  me  that 
the  trifling  sacrifice  which  would  be  required  of  me, 
in  my  outward  appearance,  would  be  amply  compen- 
sated for  by  the  delightful  feelings  I  should  experi- 
ence in  beholding  my  husband  one  of  the  most  honored 
and  most  influential  men  in  our  Society.  He  then 
knelt  down,  and  prayed  that  the  Lord  would  open  our 
hearts  to  receive  the  message  which  he  had  been  the 
humble  instrument  of  conveying  to  us  ;  and  especially, 
that  I  might  be  kept  from  doubting,  and  from  putting 
any  stumbling  block  in  my  husband's  path.  After 
this,  and  the  usual  silence  which  followed  it,  had  ended, 
he  chatted  on  diff'erent  subjects,  but  before  going 
away,  he  said  he  hoped  we  would  not  lightly  put  away 
the  subject  he  had  felt  it  his  duty  to  speak  to  us  on  ; 
and  that  he  w^ould  recommend  us  to  study  Scott's 
Bible,  with  notes  and  observations,  as  a  peculiarly 
suitable  preparation  for  that  usefulness  in  the  Church 
to  which  we  are  called. 

I  do  not  know  whether  he  spoke  to  others  of  what 
he  said  to  us,  but  about  two  years  afterwards,  a  woman 


STORY  OF  POOR  MARY. 


243 


preacher  reproved  me  very  sharply  for  having,  as  she 
said,  stood  in  my  husband's  path,  to  impede  his  ser- 
vice as  a  minister.  And  another  told  me,  I  had 
proved  a  very  unfit  wife  for  one,  whose  early  piety 
and  personal  beauty,  had  marked  him  out  for  the 
preacher's  gallery.  I  told  them  I  had  never  had  an 
opportunity  of  sinning  as  they  accused  me  of,  for  that 
his  own  inclination  had  never  been  tpwards  preaching, 
though  he  certainly  was  anxious  to  live  as  a  Christian 
ought ;  but  it  was  all  in  vain,  and  I  had  to  bear  some 
very  hard  speeches  for  it. 

The  Friend,  whom  I  engaged  as  governess  for  my 
children,  was  an  enthusiastic  Quaker.  At  last  she 
became  so  carried  away  by  her  feelings,  as  to  attempt 
speaking  in  Meetings.  To  her  extreme  mortification 
and  distress,  the  overseers  visited  her,  and  informed 
her  that  her  attempt  at  ministry  was  not  acceptable 
to  the  Meeting,  and  peremptorily  told  her  she  would 
not  be  allowed  to  speak  there.  Poor  Mary  was  over- 
whelmed with  chagrin,  and  when  I  soothingly  inquired 
the  cause  of  her  distress,  she  told  me  all — the  feeling 
of  duty  which  had  prompted  her  to  overcome  her  own 
natural  dislike  to  speak  in  a  public  assembly ;  the 
doctrines  of  the  Society  which  she  had  studied  care- 
fully ;  she  had  had  visits  from  travelling  Friends,  and 
advices  from  the  overseers,  often  and  often,  in  which 
they  had  warned  her  of  the  danger  of  resisting  the 
guidings  of  the  light  within.  And  now,  when  she  had 
done  so,  they  blamed  her,  and  spoke  harshly  to  her. 
Poor  Mary  !  she  wept  bitterly.    I  proposed,  and  she 


244 


STORY  OF  POOR  MARY. 


gladly  agreed,  tliat  we  should  both  search  out  in  the 
Scriptures,  and  write  down  every  text  we  could  find 
on  the  subject  of  women's  preaching.  "VYe  did  so, 
and  comparing  those  from  which  Friends  draw  an 
inference,  that  women's  preaching  is  a  part  of  the 
Gospel  scheme,  with  St.  Paul's  positive  command — 
"Let  your  women  keep  silence  in  the  churches," 
(where  he  immediately  afterwards  informs  us  that 
every  one  who  is  spiritual  must  acknowledge  he  has 
written  by  the  commandment  of  the  Lord ;)  we  were 
both,  I  believe,  satisfied,  that  for  once  the  overseers 
had  done  well.  Mary,  however,  never  recovered  the 
painful  shock  her  feelings  had  received  ;  she  was  vexed 
for  having  exposed  herself  to  the  rebufi"  she  had  met ; 
she  was  mortified  with  the  belief,  that  it  was  because 
she  was  poor  in  worldly  wealth,  they  had  silenced 
her ; .  and  she  was  intensely  grieved  to  think  she  had 
presumed  to  take  upon  herself  the  office  of  a  minister, 
without  being  called  of  God  to  do  so.  She  had  an  in- 
herited tendency  to  consumption  ;  and  noAV,  having  to 
work  for  her  living  by  day,  and  fretting  over  these 
thoughts  at  night,  she  soon  sunk  into  the  grave.  Two 
days  before  she  died,  she  told  me  of  the  great  kind- 
ness she  had  received  from  a  medical  Friend,  whose 
purse  had  been  freely  opened  to  her  need,  and  of  the 
peace  and  joy  she  felt  in  heart,  at  the  prospect  of  so 
soon  seeing  her  Lord  and  Saviour. 

Some  time  after  her  death,  I  was  speaking  to  an 
elderly  Friend,  on  the  subject  of  women's  preaching, 
and  said,  "I  cannot  understand  how  our  Friends  ex- 


SITTING  OX  DRESS. 


245 


plain  away  that  fourteenth  chapter  of  1  Cor.  ;  the 
command  is  so  positive,  and  so  solemnly  enforced." 
She  replied,  Ah  I  my  dear,  sure  thee  knows  St.  Paul 
was  a  bachelor  ;  no  one  could  expect  that  he  would  be 
very  polite  to  the  females." 

There  was  an  overseer  in  our  Meeting,  who  often 
paid  me  a  friendly  vi^it,  and  professed  to  feel  great 
interest  in  my  welfare,  and  personal  affection  for  me. 
She  was  elderly,  unmarried,  very  rich,  and  somewhat 
eccentric.  She  lived  in  luxurious  comfort  and  elegance, 
and  indulged  freely  in  her  one  extravagance,  the  love 
of  old  china.  I  reckoned  eight  curious  old  teapots, 
one  day,  ornamenting  her  plain  black  marble  chimney- 
piece.  One  with  the  handle  across,  like  a  kettle,  she 
took  down  with  trembling  care,  to  indulge  me  with  a 
nearer  view  of  the  delicate,  semi-transparent  china, 
and  told  me  it  was  invaluable.  She  had  given  ten 
guineas  for  it ;  and  Avould  not  part  with  it  for  ten 
times  that  sum. 

I  used  to  like  my  Friend  Eunice's  visits  at  first ; 
but  when  she  began  to  find  fault  with  me,  and  to 
dictate  what  I  ought,  as  a  Friend,  to  do  and  to  wear, 
I  lost  her  favour,  by  objecting  to  comply  with  her 
wishes.  One  morning  she  came  early,  and  I  received 
her  in  my  common  morning  attire,  a  simple  blue  muslin 
dress.  After  the  usual  salutations,  she  said,  "  she 
wished  to  sit  silently  for  a  bit."  I  immediately  put 
on  my  gravest  face,  and  respectfully  sat  down  near 
her,  wondering  what  was  to  come.  The  pause  was 
very  long,  and  then  she  told  me,  that  for  many  weeks 
21* 


246 


SITTING  ON  DRESS. 


past,  it  had  been  on  her  mind  to  sit  with  me — On 
thy  dress,  my  dear,  on  thy  dress."  She  seemed  so 
overcome  with  the  weight  of  her  burden,  and  sighed 
so  deeply,  and  paused  so  long,  that  although  it  is  usual 
to  sit  perfectly  silent,  I  thought  it  would  relieve  and 
assist  her  were  I  to  speak  ;  so  I  said,  "  What  is  it  that 
displeases  thee  in  my  dress ;  si:^^xly  I  am  now  as  sim- 
ply dressed  as  thyself." 

"Ah!  my  dear" — and  she  gasped  and  smiled  alter- 
nately— "a  real  Friend  ought  not  to  wear  blue  ;  but 
it  is  not  that  alone ;  but  look  at  the  vain  fashion — 
look  at  thy  sleeve" — and  she  drew  it  out  to  the  full 
extent; — "and  look  at  thy  skirt — what  waste  of  ma- 
terial ;  it  is  one  half  nearly  wider  than  mine." 

I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  say  playfully, 
"Well  now.  Friend  Eunice,  let  us  compare  it  alto- 
gether. Thy  dress  is  just  what  a  real  Friend's  ought 
to  be,  and  mine  is  so  unfriendly  that  it  draws  down 
thy  censure.  Thine  is,  I  see,  a  dark  green,  Irish 
tabinet ;  blue  must  have  been  used  to  dye  the  green ; 
blue  and  yellow,  both  very  unfriendly  colours,  and 
mine  is  only  simple  blue.  My  sleeves  are  too  wide ; 
thou  hast  no  sleeves  at  all,  but  then  thou  hast  an  un- 
commonly well-shaped  arm  to  show.  My  skirt  is  too 
wdde,  but  look  at  thine;  thou  can'st  not  walk  across 
the  room  without  holding  it  up,  it  is  so  long;  so  wdiat 
I  have  in  the  width,  thou  hast  in  the  length,  and  as 
to  expense,  my  muslin  has  not  cost  me  one-tenth  the 
money  thy  tabinet  has  cost  thee. 

She  laughed  outright,  and  tapping  my  cheek  said, 


SITTING  ON  DRESS. 


247 


"  Thou  art  a  strange  young  woman  ;  -svlio,  but  thyself, 
-would  ever  think  of  commenting  on  my  plain  dress ; 
but,  my  dear,  thou  should'st  not  indulge  in  so  unbe- 
coming a  leyity,  on  so  important  a  subject ;  and  I  am 
to  blame  for  listening  to  thee ;  it  was  not  as  an  ac- 
quaintance, but  as  an  oyerseer,  that  I  came  to  speak 
to  thee ;  and  I  must  (lo  my  duty,  and  inform  thee, 
that  Friends  are  not  satisfied  with  thy  general  ap- 
pearance. Really  thou  must  giye  up  thy  own  will,  and 
take  up  the  cross.  Thou  wilt  only,  at  first,  feel  it  irk- 
some ;  and  besides,  thou  wilt  be  thou-zht  much  more 
highly  of  by  Friends." 

I  was  going  to  speak,  but  checked  myself,  lest  any 
reply  might  annoy  her ;  but  she  said,  in  an  afi'ection- 
ate  yoice,  "Now,  my  dear,  tell  me,  wilt  thou  not 
yield  ?  Speak  to  me,  and  tell  me  freely,  what  it  is 
that  impedes  thy  dedication  to  usefulness  amongst  us. 
Would' st  thou  not  like  to  be  one  of  our  representa- 
tiyes  to  London  ?  I  am  sure  the  way  might  be  opened 
for  thee  to  perform  that  seryice." 

"Well,  my  Friend,"  said  I,  "in  the  first  place,  I 
am  not  ambitious  of  that  office ;  but  as  thou  art  so 
anxious  I  should  take  up  my  cross,  and  dress  myself 
as  thou  dost,  I  will  consent  to  do  so,  on  one  condition, 
that  is,  that  thou  wilt  set  me  the  example,  and  take 
up  thy  cross,  by  di-essing  thyself  as  I  do  now.  Sui'ely 
that  is  only  fair.    Wilt  thou?" 

"Me,"  said  she,  "dress  myself  up  in  a  blue  mus- 
lin I  I  would  be  ashamed  to  be  seen  in  it.  A  common, 
^^Igar,  blue  muslin.  My  dear,  how  can'st  thou  speak 
so  lightly  of  serioTisi  matters?" 


248 


FUNERAL  CUSTOMS. 


"Well,"  said  I,  "never  mind  the  muslin.  Thou 
shalt  have  one  of  my  neatest  and  plainest  silk  dresses, 
and  my  best  straw  bonnet." 

"Nonsense,"  she  sharply  answered.  "I  would  not 
wear  thy  Babylonish  garments  for  anything  in  the 
world.  Thou  hast  distressed  me  very  much  by  thy 
levity.    I  am  sorry  I  came  to  see  thee  to-day." 

"I  should  be  sorry  to  offend,"  said  I.  "I  only 
wished  thee  to  understand  how  disagreeable  it  would 
be  to  me  to  alter  my  style  of  dress  to  please  thee; 
so,  perhaps,  we  had  better  both  stay  as  we  are." 

She  replied,  "Thou  hast  a  most  extraordinary  way 
of  speaking;  but  I  must  make  allowance  for  thee,  as 
thou  art  Irish.  Indeed,  I  don't  feel  that  I  can  be 
offended  with  thee,  although  I  do  not  think  that  any 
one  ever  before  spoke  to  an  overseer  as  thou  hast  to 
me.  Me  put  on  thy  dress!"  And  she  laughed  at 
the  idea  of  the  appearance  she  would  make.  She 
parted  from  me  with  apparent  cordiality,  and  even 
kissed  me,  but  never  honoured  me  with  another  visit, 
and,  soon  after,  ceased  to  give  me  even  a  passing  nod 
of  recognition;  and  I  think  she  must  have  commu- 
nicated to  the  other  overseers  the  result  of  her  inter- 
view, for  I  was  never  again  visited  on  the  subject  of 
dress. 

I  accepted  an  invitation  to  a  Friend's  funeral,  as  I 
wished  to  know  how  they  managed  this  matter  in 
England.  The  printed  card  of  invitation,  though  not 
in  mourning,  was  printed  in  a  very  sombre  style.  It 
informed  me  that  a  carriage  would  be  at  my  door  at  a 


FUXERAL  CUSTOMS. 


249 


certain  hour,  and  that  after  the  funeral,  the  dinner 
would  be  at  a  specified  time.  The  hearse  and  eight 
carriages,  which  formed  the  cortege,  were  painted  as 
dark  a  colour  as  possible,  without  being  black.  We 
had  three  sermons  at  the  grave,  expressive  of  the  esti- 
mation in  which  the  deceased  had  been  held,  and  then 
we  went  to  the  dinner.  It  was  just  a  regular  com- 
pany dinner,  plentiful  and  good,  with  abundance  of 
sweets  and  wines.  We  were  all  very  grave.  Who 
could  help  being  so,  whilst  the  very  shadow  of  the 
grim  monster  was  over  us?  But  still,  conversation 
was  kept  up.  All  the  women  members  of  the  family 
were  in  new  dresses,  of  the  very  darkest  shade  of 
brown ;  and  when  I  remarked,  that  it  was  more  than 
a  week  since  the  death  had  taken  place,  the  eldest 
young  Friend  answered,  "  Yes ;  but  it  is  a  great  hurry 
in  a  week  to  get  so  many  dresses  made  up."  And 
yet  the  Society  considers  it  a  sin  to  wear  mourning !  I 
have  known  instances  of  whole  families  leaving  us,  in 
consequence  of  the  displeasure  incurred  by  persisting 
in  wearing  that  customary  tribute  of  respect  to  the 
dead. 

How  absurd  !  let  a  sober  man  think  for  an  instant, 
and  discover  if  he  can,  what  connection  there  is  be- 
tween piety,  true  spiritual  piety,  and  the  colour  of 
our  garments — the  purity  of  the  soul,  and  the  extent 
of  his  head  cover ! 

Can  any  rational  being  bring  those  two  things  into 
discernable  connection  ?  or  show  in  what  way  the  sal- 
vation and  sanctity  of  the  soul  are  confederate  with 


250 


SCHISM. 


the  outward  garb  of  the  body  ?  Did  any  of  the  apos- 
tles indulge  in,  or  appoint  such  habiliments  ?  Was  it 
made  a  part  and  parcel  of  primitive  Christianity  ? 

"  What  a  disgusting  contrast  to  true  godliness  is 
there  in  all  this  parade  of  folly.  '  Pure  religion  and 
undefiled  before  God  and  the  Father  is  this,  to  visit 
the  fatherless  and  the  widow  in  their  affliction,  and  to 
keep  ourselves  unspotted  from  the  world.'  These  are 
but  Popish  mummeries;  and  when  the  soul  is  so  be- 
sotted as  to  receive  such  things  as  the  all  in  all  of 
godliness,  there  is  no  limit  to  its  madness.  When  it 
is  remembered  that  an  excessive  partiality  for  exter- 
nals has  ever  attended  an  infidel  disregard  of  the  letter 
and  spirit  of  Christianity,  we  exult  in  every  frank  and 
manly  effort  that  is  made  to  quell  and  crush  the  in- 
cipient evil  of  superstitious  vanity." 

This  extract  is  from  an  article  on  Popery,  in  the 
Achill  Herald.  It  is  equally  suited  to  Quakerism,  in 
which  the  external  appearance  is  the  chief  care ;  and 
as  I  have  heard  some  of  themselves  say,  "the  founda- 
tion stone  of  the  Society." 

Whilst  I  was  a  member  of  the  Bristol  Meeting,  there 
was  a  great  schism  in  the  Society.  Some  were  in 
the  habit  of  meeting  once  a  week,  to  read  and  study 
the  Bible,  compare  text  with  text,  and  converse  to- 
gether on  the  meaning  and  teaching  of  the  inspired 
Word.  This  led  naturally  to  some  great  discoveries 
of  the  unscriptural  doctrines  of  the  Society.  With 
simple  uprightness,  these  Bible-readers  imagined  that 
they  Avere  doing  an  acceptable  service  to  the  others, 


METHOD  OF  GETTING  INFORMATION.  251 


by  pointing  out  the  discrepancies  they  had  found,  and 
a  book,  or  rather  several  books,  were  published :  "  The 
Beacon,"  ''Holy  Scripture  the  Test  of  Truth,"  &c., 
&c.  The  result  was  very  different  to  what  had  been 
expected.  The  main  body  held  tenaciously  to  their 
cherished  errors.  Meetings  for  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures  were  suppressed,  conversations  on  religion 
forbidden,  and  the  term  "Beaconite"  applied  in  de- 
rision to  all  who  dared  to  think  for  themselves. 

Some  of  the  best  preachers,  and  many  of  the  most 
enlightened  and  worthy  men  and  women  in  all  parts 
of  England,  on  this,  seceded  from  Quakerism.  And  I 
may  add,  the  greater  number  of  them,  after  wavering 
about  amongst  the  various  sects  of  Dissenters,  finally 
settled  down  into  sober  members  of  the  Evangelical 
Church  of  England. 

Another  development  of  the  working  of  Quakerism 
was  brought  under  my  notice,  by  a  very  unexpected 
and  unannounced  visit  which  I  received  from  two  of 
the  women  overseers — Sally  Adams  and  Anny  Dra- 
per. They  informed  me  that  in  consequence  of  hav- 
ing heard  a  report  that  Rebecca  Gardiner  was  sup- 
posed to  be  contemplating  a  marriage  out  of  the  So- 
ciety, they  had  called  on  me  to  ascertain  the  truth  of 
it,  as  they  knew  that  Rebecca  was  an  intimate  friend 
of  mine,  and  that  I  would  be  likely  to  know  all  about 
it. 

I  told  them,  "  I  was  surprised  they  should  come  to 
me  on  the  subject,  and  that  even  if  I  were,  as  they 
imagined,  well  informed  on  it,  I  would  certainly  re- 


252 


METHOD  OF  GETTING  INFORMATION. 


fuse  to  betray  the  confidence  mj  friend  had  placed 
in  me." 

"Ah!  now,"  said  Sally,  "it  is  really  trying  to 
hear  thee  speak  so,  or  use  such  a  word  as  betray.  We 
have  a  very  arduous  office  to  perform,  for  thou  know- 
est,  as  overseers,  we  are  liable  to  blame  unless  we 
impart  suitable  admonition  to  the  young  woman." 

"It  is  thy  bounden  duty,"  said  Anne,  "  to  give  us 
the  information  we  require.  The  Monthly  Meeting 
will  hold  us  to  have  been  negligent  of  our  office,  un- 
less admonition  has  been  timely  given  to  the  young 
woman." 

"  Why  do  you  not  go  to  Rebecca  herself,"  said  I, 
"  and  ask  her." 

"  Oh !"  said  Sally,  "because  thee  sees,  after  all,  it 
is  only  a  rumour  we  have  heard ;  and  if  it  is  alto- 
gether false,  as  rumours  sometimes  are,  it  would  be 
injudicious  to  mention  it  to  herself." 

"  It  might  put  ideas  into  her  head,"  said  Anne, 
"  that  maybe  never  were  in  it ;  it  would  not  be  pru- 
dent to  go  to  herself,  until  we  know  more  about  it. 
Thee  must  tell  us." 

"  If  I  did  know  all  you  ask  me  to  tell  you,"  said  I, 
"  I  would  decline  doing  so.  How  can  you  ask  me  to 
be  guilty  of  such  a  breach  of  friendship?" 

"  We  will  not  let  thy  name  appear,"  said  Anne. 

"No,  indeed,"  echoed  Sally,  "she  shall  never 
know  that  it  was  thee  told  us." 

"We  never  give  up  tlie  name  of  an  informant," 
said  Anne. 


METHOD  OF  GETTING  INFORMATION.  253 


"I  can  give  you  no  information,"  said  I. 

"  Sure  thee  don't  mean  to  say  tliee  will  put  us  off?" 
said  Sally.  "  Who  is  there  but  thyself  would  be  likely 
to  know  about  it,  to  tell  us  ?  It  is  astonishing  the 
difficulty  we  have  in  getting  private  information,  and 
we  can't  put  Rebecca  under  dealing  without  some- 
thing more  substantial  than  just  bare  rumour.  It  is 
thy  duty  to  tell  us,  and  really  thou  must.  She  shall 
never  hear  thy  name  mentioned  in  connection  with 
oui'  dealing." 

"  Suppose,"  said  I,  "  you  dismiss  the  subject  from 
your  minds — why  trouble  yourselves  about  a  rumour  ?" 

"  Come,"  said  Anne,  there  is  no  use  in  our  stay- 
ing here  any  longer,  she  wont  tell  us.  And  remem- 
ber," said  she  to  me,  "thou  art  not  to  mention  to 
Rebecca  that  we  have  called  on  thee." 

"  Thou  had  better  not  mention  it  to  any  one,"  said 
Sally. 

I  was  one  evening  in  a  company  of  Friends,  when 
the  topic  of  conversation  was  the  conduct  of  a  lady 
who  had  recently  fled  from  her  husband's  house.  The 
husband  himself,  and  his  brother,  my  old  acquaint- 
ance, Friend  Gregory,  were  present;  and  the  chief 
speakers  were  an  elderly  lady  sitting  on  the  sofa  next 
me,  whispered — Is  it  not  very  bad  taste  in  those 
two  men  to  speak  thus  publicly  of  a  circumstance 
which  they  ought  to  blush  to  hear  mentioned  ?"  "I 
do  not  know  the  lady  they  are  speaking  of,"  said  I, 
"  or  what  was  the  cause  of  her  flight,"  "  I  knew  her 
very  well,"  she  answered,  "she  was  a  very  nice- 


254 


METHOD  OF  GETTING  INFORMATION. 


looking  young  woman ;  but  her  parents,  who  are  both 
preachers  in  our  Society,  acted  very  injudiciously  to- 
wards her.  They  forced  her  to  marry  that  man  who 
had  nothing  on  earth  to  recommend  him  but  his 
wealth.  She  was,  of  course,  unhappy.  He  is  an 
odious  man ;  and  perhaps  it  was  to  cheer  her  depres- 
sion, or  perhaps  to  induce  forgetfulness,  but  certainly 
she  got  into  the  habit  of  putting  a  few  drops  of  bran- 
dy into  her  wine,  and  of  taking  it  a  little  too  often. 
Then  he,  and  Gregory,  and  the  rest  of  them,  up- 
braided her,  and  tormented  her  so  much,  that  really 
it  was  no  surprise  to  me  to  hear  that  she  had  fled 
from  his  house.  But  let  us  listen  to  what  Gregory  is 
now  saying. 

I  found  out,"  said  he,  that  it  was  to  one  of  the 
fashionable  watering  places  she  had  gone ;  and  as  I 
could  not  trust  any  one  to  find  out  all  I  wanted  for 
me,  I  resolved  to  go  myself,  and  that  she  might  not 
suspect  any  thing  I  disguised  myself." 

"How  didst  thou  disguise  thyself?"  asked  one  of 
the  party. 

"  I  disguised  myself,"  said  Gregory,  as  "  a  gentle- 
man. I  got  a  black  double-breasted  coat  with  a  collar 
on  it,  a  velvet  waistcoat,  and  black  trowsers.  I  bought 
a  gold  chain  to  hang  over  my  waistcoat,  and  a  gentle- 
man's hat;  no  one  would  have  known  me.  I  soon 
found  out  where  she  Avas,  and  by  night  and  by  day  I 
watched  her,  until  I  found  out  all  I  wanted  to  know." 
And  he  chuckled  and  rubbed  his  hands  with  glee,  at 


WEDDIXG  AT  AN  IXX. 


255 


the  idea  of  having  discovered  that  his  sister-in-law 
was  living  a  life  of  sin. 

"Ah  I"  said  the  husband — an  ill-shaped,  unpre- 
possessing looking  plain  Friend — "  was  not  Gregory 
very  clever  to  think  of  disguising  himself?" 

"  Had  he  only  assumed  the  habits,  as  well  as  the 
dress  of  a  gentleman,  the  disguise  would  indeed  have 
been  complete  ;  but  perhaps  he  could  not  do  that,'" 
whispered  the  lady  beside  me. 

I  mention  this  circumstance  to  show,  that  there  is 
no  meanness  which  may  not  be  resorted  to,  when 
Friends  resolve  to  disown  one  who  has  incuiTed  their 
displeasui'e.  As  for  thee,  poor  erring  wife,  let  a  veil 
be  drawn  over  thy  sad  story.  "Who  can  tell  the  ago- 
nizing thoughts  which  burned  thy  brain  to  madness, 
before  the  intoxicating  draught  had  touched  thy  beau- 
tiful lips  I  Who  can  tell  of  the  floods  of  tears  which 
drowned  the  light  of  thy  soft  beaming  eyes,  before 
the  fountain  was  exhausted  which  left  them  dry,  cold, 
and  scornful  ?  Who  can  tell  of  the  bitter  words, 
of  the  heartless  unkindness,  which  first  chilled,  and 
afterwards  destroyed,  thy  woman's  feelings  and  affec- 
tions ?  Great  as  was  thy  fall,  they  who  witnessed 
that  evening  the  unmanly  triumphing,  and  indecent 
garrulity  of  thy  husband  and  his  brother,  can  well 
believe  thou  hadst  been  more  sinned  against  than 
sinning. 

I  was  favoured  with  an  invitation  to  a  curious  wed- 
ding. The  dinner  was  to  be  at  a  hotel,  not  an  unu- 
sual custom  in  England.   Both  bride  and  bridegroom 


256 


WEDDING  AT  AN  INN. 


were  very  rich ;  so  no  expense  was  spared,  and  the 
best  fare  was  ordered.  The  arranging  of  the  proces- 
sion into  Meeting  was  not  done  in  the  orderly  way 
they  conduct  these  matters  in  Ireland.  The  different 
couples  walked  in,  and  sat  down  just  wdiere  they 
pleased.  At  dinner  it  w^as  the  same — no  order,  no 
attention  to  ceremony,  w^as  observed.  I  never,  be- 
fore or  since,  dined  with  so  unmannerly  a  set  of  peo- 
ple. However,  I  was  highly  amused  w^atching  the 
scene,  and  looking  at  the  awkward  attempts  at  carv- 
ing, and  the  visible  enjoyment  of  the  eaters.  As  to 
the  bridegroom,  he  very  nearly  devoured  the  whole  of 
the  little  roast  pig  which  was  before  him ;  and  the 
way  some  of  those  Friends  spoke  was  so  new  to  me. 
"I  am  glad  to  see  thee.  Bee'est  thee  very  well?" 
"Be'ent  thee  pleased  to  see  the  bride  looking  so 
bravely?"  "I  don't  think  there  be  a  nicer  young 
woman  in  our  meeting."  As  soon  as  dinner  was  over, 
we  rose  from  table,  and  went  to  the  other  end  of  the 
long  ball-room,  in  a  corner  of  w^hich  we  had  dined ; 
whilst  the  waiters,  who  could  scarce  do  their  business 
for  laughing  at  the  uncouth  company,  laid  on  the  tea 
and  bride-cake.  xVgain  we  sat  round  the  table  as  at 
dinner,  and  the  large  cake  soon  vanished  before  the 
vigorous  onslaught  of  those  wonderful  eaters.  The 
whole  affair  was  over,  and  we  had  taken  leave  of  the 
very  elegant  and  graceful  bride,  by  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening. 


RETROSPECT. 


257 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Retrospect — Radicalism — Devonshire  Overseers'  Advice — Indepen- 
dents— Wesleyans — Plymouth  Brethren — Cathedral — Curious  cus- 
tom— Return  to  Ireland — Adventure  with  Smugglers — Jacob  rules 
— A  First  Day  Morning  Meeting — Ballyhaganites — Reasons  for 
joining  the  Society — A  Convent — Music  mistaken  for  Hebrew — 
Ignorance  and  its  results. 

Who  can  turn  over  the  volume  of  memory,  and  not 
meet  many  a  page  blistered  with  the  tears  of  sufier- 
ing  and  sorrow?  God  has  mercifully  granted  that 
man  shall  have  a  feeling  akin  to  pleasui-e,  in  the  re- 
collection of  bodily  pain  ;  and  the  innocent  joys  that 
are  past,  grow  brighter  and  brighter,  as  they  shine 
in  the  light  of  years  gone  by.  But  there  are  wounds 
which  time  can  never  entirely  heal — which  still  bleed, 
when  the  covering  is  removed,  and  must  continue  to 
do  so,  until  warmed  by  the  dawn  of  the  glorious  light 
of  eternity. 

My  bark  had  floated  lightly  over  many  a  stormy 
wave.  The  breakers  had  been  around  and  about  me, 
and  I  had  been  many  a  time  drenched  with  the  spray  ; 
but  I  heeded  them  not . — smooth  water  was  before, 
and  a  bright  sky  above  me.  and  those  I  loved  were 
by  my  side. 


258 


RETROSPECT. 


Death  came,  and  with  his  unerring  arrow  pierced 
my  father.    I  felt  then  the  smart  of  that  keen,  sharp 
cut,  which  the  dread  messenger  alone  can  give.  I 
loved  him  with  the  most  intense  affection.    I  thought 
him  when  living — and  now,  after  the  lapse  of  many 
years,  I  think  him  still — to  have  been  the  very  best 
and  most  perfect  of  all  the  erring  sons  of  mortality 
whom  I  have  ever  met  with.    Never  was  he  known 
to  speak  an  unguarded  word;  never  was  he  known  to 
do  an  unkind  act.    And  his  death  was  happy,  as  his 
life  had  been  most  blessed.    The  carriage  was  at  the 
door  for  him  to  take  his  accustomed  drive,  and  he  was 
eating  a  morsel  of  bread  for  his  lunch,  when  the  sum- 
mons came,  and  found  him  ready.    His  lips  moved, 
he  faintly  uttered  the  words,  ^'  Lord,  thou  knowest 
that  I  love  thee,"  and  all  was  over.    My  father  !  my 
father  !  thou  art  not  dead.    Thou  art  living  in  the 
realms  of  glory  ;  and  often  in  the  dreams  of  the  night, 
I  see  thee  standing  at  the  gate  of  the  heavenly  Jeru- 
salem, waiting  to  welcome  me  in,  and  to  lead  me  to 
the  footstool  of  the  throne  of  the  Redeemer. 

My  father  was  most  conscientiously  a  Quaker.  For 
his  sake  I  feel  an  inteTest,  even  now,  in  the  Society 
he  belonged  to ;  and  the  warmest  wish  of  my  heart  in 
writing  these  sketches  is,  that  "  the  dry  bones  maybe 
shaken."  That  as  I  have  had  opportunities,  far  more 
than  others,  of  seeing  and  knowing  the  way  in  which 
the  machinery  has  been  worked — as  I  have  been  in- 
side the  doors  which  carefully  locks  up  the  Avheels, 
and  have  been  well  nigh  smothered  by  tho  dust  which 


RADICALISM. 


259 


is  accumulated  there,  I  may,  by  directing  attention  to 
the  neglected  state  of  that  apartment,  be  instrumental 
in  causing  it  to  be  cleansed. 

All  nature  is  progressing,  and  Friends  have  been 
foremost  in  spending  their  wealth  to  promote  what 
they  call  Radical  Reform.  And  yet — oh!  strange 
inconsistency  ! — they  are  the  staunchest  conservatives 
of  those  odd  dogmas,  which,  having  been  handed  down 
from  father  to  son,  endorsed  with  the  words — "  best 
wisdom,"  are  now  allowed  to  pass  current  amongst 
them,  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  that  pure  gold  of  the 
realm,  on  which  alone  is  stamped  the  king's  image. 

I  was  one  evening  in  company  with  several  very 
orthodox  Friends,  when  Radicalism  was  the  theme  of 
conversation.  One  said,  he  had  given  fifty  pounds 
for  the  Radical  dinner  ;  and  another,  that  he  had  given 
one  hundred.  Said  another,  "  I  had  not  a  hundred 
to  give,  but  I  went  to  it,  and  it  was  a  glorious  scene." 
"Yes,"  said  another,  "I  saw  thee  there;  and  Avhen 
Lord  John  Russell's  health  was  drunk,  and  the  cheer- 
ing was  most  uproarious,  I  saw  thee  take  off  thy  shoe, 
and  pound  upon  the  table  with  the  iron  heel,  till  the 
glasses  danced  again." 

These  speakers  were  all  men  who  would  have  shrunk 
with  horror  from  the  idea  of  wearing  a  double-breasted 
coat,  or  of  going  inside  the  door  of  a  Church.  Such 
is  man ! 

Some  of  our  family  being  in  delicate  health,  we 
resolved  to  go  and  live  in  Devonshire,  hoping  that  the 


260 


DEVONSHIRE  OVERSEERS'  ADVICE. 


soft  and  balmy  air  of  that  beautiful  county,  might 
invigorate  the  invalids. 

We  were  not  long  settled  in  our  charming  home, 
when  I  was  favoured  with  a  letter  from  two  of  the 
women  overseers.  They  required  me  to  inform  them 
did  I  attend  Friends'  Meetings  regularly  ?  and  asked, 
did  I  wish  to  be  still  considered  a  member,  for  the 
purpose  of  having  a  certificate  sent  for  me.  I  replied, 
that  of  course  I  was  a  member,  and  had  not  any  in- 
tention of  leaving  the  Society ;  but  that  I  did  not  now 
attend  the  Friends'  Meeting,  as  the  nearest  to  my 
home  was  forty  miles  away  from  me. 

Some  weeks  elapsed,  and  then  came  another  letter 
from  the  same  two  Friends,  telling  me  that  having 
made  anxious  and  due  inquiry,  they  had  ascertained, 
that  although  the  nearest  Meeting-house  was  forty 
miles  off,  still  I  might  be  enabled  to  uphold  the  pre- 
cious doctrine  of  our  Society,  respecting  silent  Meet- 
ings. They  informed  me,  that  in  a  small  country 
town,  eight  miles  distant  from  my  residence,  there 
lived  a  man  Friend,  whose  name  they  kindly  gave 
me.  This  man,  they  told  me,  was  in  the  habit  of 
sitting  in  his  own  parlour  on  first  day  mornings,  and 
had  expressed  a  more  than  willingness  that  I  should 
go,  and  sit  with  him  at  that  time.  And  these  wise 
women — two  old  maids,  by  the  way — actually  required 
me  to  comply  with  their  advice — to  drive  sixteen 
miles  every  Sabbath  morning,  for  the  ridiculous,  not 
to  say  indelicate,  purpose  of  sitting  in  the  parloui-, 
back  of  a  cutlery  shop,  for  two  hours,  witli  a  middle- 


INDEPENDENTS — WESLEYANS.  261 

aged  bachelor.  To  save  me  from  the  impiety  of 
attending  a  place  of  "  common  worship,"  those  two 
steady,  highly  consistent  overseers,  wrote  this  sage 
advice  to  me.  I  did  not  answer  that  letter  ;  but  I 
keep  it  as  a  cm-iosity  of  Quakerism. 

They  wrote  to  me  a  third  time  on  the  same  subject ; 
but  that  letter  came  at  a  time  when  my  heart  was 
lacerated  by  a  double  bereavement,  and  it  escaped  my 
attention.  The  grave  had  opened,  and  in  one  short 
week  received  both  my  mother  and  sister  to  its  dark 
bosom.  They  descended  into  it,  in  the  sure  and  cer- 
tain hope  of  a  glorious  resurrection.  Tears  for  my 
own  loss,  and  joy  for  their  happiness,  banished  from 
my  mind  the  memory  of  my  annoyance  from  the 
overseers. 

I  had  still  very  much  of  the  Quaker  feeling  of  dis- 
like to  the  Church  ser^-ice  ;  and  the  Quaker  idea,  that 
any  form  of  dissent  was  to  be  preferred  to  the  State 
Church,  haunted  my  mind. 

I  could  not  go  to  Meeting ;  it  Avas  forty  miles  off. 
I  would  not  go  sit  with  the  man  Friend ;  and  for  the 
sake  of  my  young  family,  if  not  for  conscience  sake, 
I  must  choose  some  of  the  places  of  "common  wor- 
ship." First,  I  visited  the  Independent  Meeting- 
house, and  did  not  like  it.  The  preacher  there  en- 
forced on  his  auditors  the  duty  of  signing  petitions  to 
Parliament  for  Reform,  with  more  energy  than  suited 
my  idea  of  a  Christian  minister.  Then  I  went  to  the 
Methodist  preaching-house,  and  my  Quaker  feelings 
were  shocked  with  seeing  a  fiddler  stand  up  to  raise 


t 


262  PLYMOUTH  BRETIIIIEX. 

the  tunes.  Besides  this,  they  had  the  water  for  bap- 
tism brought  into  the  Church  in  a  common,  small, 
blue,  earthenware  bowl ;  and  I  thought  that  did  not 
look  nice  for  a  place  of  v/orship ;  but  the  preaching 
was  very  good,  and  I  went  there  regularly,  until  they 
changed  the  preacher.  His  successor  was  a  politician ; 
so  I  left.  Then  I  went  to  the  meeting  of  the  Plymouth 
Brethren  ;  but  I  could  feel  no  unity  with  them,  in  what 
seemed  to  me  an  insult  to  the  Almighty.  They  would 
not  ask  a  person  of  rank  to  meet  them  in  such  a  den,  as 
they  had  thought  good  enough  to  consecrate  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  King  of  kings.  It  was  a  loft  over  a  stable. 
You  had  to  pass  through  a  coal-yard  to  the  half-ladder, 
half-stairs,  by  which  it  was  gained.  A  dark,  dirty, 
small,  mean  room,  with  an  unceiled  roof;  and,  in  the 
evening  service,  two  shabby  chamber  candlesticks 
were  placed  on  the  top  of  two  men's  hats,  on  a  little, 
ricketty  deal  table.  The  brethren  were  a  wealthy 
body,  and  built  up  good  houses  for  themselves. 

Not  liking  any  of  these  places  of  worship — and  I 
will  not  say  that  my  dislike  to  them  was  a  reasonable 
one — I  was  compelled  either  to  stay  at  home,  or  to 
go  to  the  Cathedral.  I  went.  The  Scriptures  of  the 
day  were  a  balm  to  my  soul,  and  some  of  the  beauti- 
ful prayers  in  the  service  touched  a  chord  Avhich  still 
vibrates  to  the  sound.  The  preacher  was  a  sportsman ; 
and  when  speaking  of  the  sin  of  maligning  our  neigh- 
bours, he  bade  us  "mind  what  we  were  about;  and, 
instead  of  poaching  on  other  people's  manors,  to  con- 
fine ourselves  lawfully  to  our  own  preserves."    I  did 


ESTABLISHED  CHURCH. 


263 


not  like  the  sermons.  "We  were  only  favoured  with 
such  instructions  once  a  fortnight.  Every  alternate 
week  the  Sacrament  was  administered,  and  on  that 
day  we  had  no  sermon ;  but  the  Scriptures  and  the 
service  more  than  compensated  me  for  it.  They  suited 
my  state  of  mind ;  and  with  them  I  felt,  that  let  the 
preacher  be  what  he  might,  the  auditors  were  inde- 
pendent, and  could  worship  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth, 
whilst  the  instruction  of  the  Scriptures,  prevented  any 
one  from  feeling  they  had  been  unedified. 

This  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  an  inestima- 
ble blessing  in  the  Church  of  England  and  Ireland. 
If  the  preacher  is  a  good  man,  and  an  eloquent 
speaker,  it  is  a  privilege  to  receive  instruction  from 
his  lips ;  but  if  he  is  deficient  in  knowledge  or  in  gifts, 
still  the  humble,  upright  Christian  is  sure  to  receive 
some  food  for  his  soul,  from  the  appropriate  and  in- 
telligible prayers  of  the  service,  and  from  the  inex- 
haustible treasury  of  God's  Holy  Book.  This  is  the 
great  and  blessed  peculiarity  of  that  Church.  Well 
may  the  lover  of  freedom  and  independence  cherish  it ! 
In  all  the  various  sects  of  Dissenters,  the  people  are 
dependent  on  their  ministers  for  edification.  They 
may  or  may  not  read  the  Scriptures — I  believe  all 
except  Friends  do  ;  but  it  is  often  a  very  minute  por- 
tion. Preaching  is  the  important  part  with  them,  and 
the  quality  of  that  varies  exceedingly. 

The  Devonshire  people  have  some  original  customs 
amongst  them.  One  I  will  mention,  as  it  is  uncommon, 
and  will  probably,  as  the  tide  of  reform  sweeps  on, 


264 


RETURN  TO  IRELA2JD. 


become  extinct.  In  the  shops,  wherever  I  made  pur- 
chases amounting  to,  and  over,  one  pound,  I  was  in- 
variably asked  to  walk  to  the  upper  end  of  the  shop, 
where  was  placed  a  chair  on  a  nice  piece  of  carpet. 
The  shopman  would  leave  me  there  a  moment,  and 
returning  with  a  neat  small  tray  in  his  hand,  he  would 
present  me  with  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  slice  of  plum 
cake. 

Domestic  circumstances  having  occurred,  which  ren- 
dered it  desirable  that  we  should  remove  to  Ireland, 
we  resolved  to  make  the  journey  a  pleasure  trip. 
Sending  the  rest  of  our  family  direct,  with  our  two 
eldest  children,  we  drove  from  Devonshire  to  Liver- 
pool in  our  own  light  phaeton,  stopping  here  and  there, 
as  fancy  or  fatigue  induced  us,  and  seeing  all  the 
beauties  and  wonders  of  nature  that  lay  in  our  path. 
We  were  six  weeks  in  accomplishing  this  most  inter- 
esting and  delightful  excursion,  and  like  all  other 
travellers,  we  met  with  some  adventures. 

Our  guide-book  described  the  valley  of  Trentishoe 
as  being  delightfully  wild  scenery ;  so  we  turned  off 
the  high  road  to  see  it.  When  once  you  enter  on  a 
Devonshire  by-road,  you  must  go  on,  there  is  no  re- 
treating. Every  half  a  mile  or  so,  you  will  meet  with  a 
gateway  or  a  nook,  where  it  is  just  possible  to  pass 
another  vehicle ;  but  on  you  must  go  through  the  beau- 
tiful high  hedges,  up  and  down  hills,  short,  but  almost 
perpendicular,  which  the  country  people  call  "smart 
pitches,"  and  over  ruts  and  stones,  which  tried  even 
the  temper  of  our  pet  black  mare.    At  length  we  got 


ADVENTURE  WITH  SMUGGLERS.  265 

through  the  hedges,  and  emerged  on  a  kind  of  com- 
mon ;  there  were  car  tracks  to  guide  us,  but  no  living 
being  seemed  there.  The  scenery  was  very  lovely  all 
around;  hill  and  dale  on  one  side,  purple  with  the 
mountain  heath,  on  another,  ornamented  with  planta- 
tions. And  the  sunbeams  glittering  on  the  sea,  as  we 
caught  a  glimpse  of  it  occasionally  between  the  hills, 
reconciled  us  to  the  difficulties  of  our  path.  The  wheel 
marks  that  we  were  following,  led  us  down  a  hill  so 
steep  and  winding,  as  to  make  us  anxious  lest  our 
equipage  should  roll  over  and  over.  We  had  to  drag 
on,  and  held  the  back  as  firmly  as  we  could,  to  assist 
our  willing  steed.  \Ye  reached  the  bottom  of  it  in 
.safety ;  when,  to  our  dismay,  we  beheld  the  road-way 
ascending  up  another  hill,  steeper  if  possible  than  that 
we  had  just  come  down.  Our  mare  looked  up  the  hill, 
snorted,  and  refused  to  stir.  She  had  never  before 
balked  at  her  task,  and  we  knew  she  would  not  now, 
had  it  been  possible  to  accomplish  it.  We  had  lost 
our  way ;  evening  was  coming  on,  and  not  a  creature 
near  to  guide  or  direct  us. 

There  was  a  small  barn  or  house  in  the  valley.  We 
went  to  it.  The  door  was  fastened.  We  called  and 
knocked,  no  one  answered.  The  window  was  just 
under  the  thatch,  and  up  so  high  that  we  could  not 
look  in.  We  unharnessed  the  horse,  and  led  her  to  a 
stream  of  water  hard  by,  where  she  could  crop  the 
grass  banks.  Then  we  seated  ourselves  on  the  ground, 
and,  drawing  out  the  basket,  which  we  always  took 
care  to  have  well  stored  on  these  nomadic  excursions, 
23 


266  ADVENTURE  WITH  SMUGGLERS. 


"we  eat  and  drank,  and  laughed  at  tlie  dilemma  we 
were  in.  Whilst  so  doing,  a  little  child  crept  near  us. 
Where  he  came  from  we  did  not  see,  and  he  was  too 
young  to  speak.  We  put  into  one  of  his  hands  the 
leg  of  a  cold  roast  chicken,  and  into  the  other  a  piece 
of  bread,  and  oflf  he  ran  towards  the  barn.  The  door 
was  opened  for  him,  and  a  tall,  bony  young  woman 
appeared  on  the  scene.  We  asked  her  for  meal  or 
oats  for  the  horse ;  but  she  was  very  surly,  and  said  she 
had  not  anything,  that  she  was  a  poor  lone  creature. 
We  offered  her  food,  she  took  it,  and  asked  what 
brought  us  there  ?  We  told  her  that  we  must  have 
mistaken  the  road,  and  mentioned  where  we  had  in- 
tended going.  She  then  asked  me — "Aint  you 
afraid?"  I  said,  "No,  what  should  I  fear?  We 
have  done  nothing  wrong,  we  have  not  harmed  any- 
body." 

She  left  us  abruptly,  and  soon  returned,  bringing 
a  bundle  of  hay,  and  a  plentiful  drink  of  meal  and 
water  for  the  horse.  "  Ah  !"  said  I,  "  you  are  a  kind 
woman  after  all,  to  give  us  the  very  things  we  want 
most."  She  smiled,  and  went  back  to  the  barn,  bring- 
ing this  time  a  tumbler  of  raw  spirits.  We  tasted  it, 
to  show  that  we  appreciated  her  good  intention,  and 
the  remainder  she  tossed  off,  as  one  well  used  to  the 
intoxicating  draught.  Again  she  went  to  the  barn, 
and  with  her  came  out,  one  after  another,  one,  two — 
aye,  six — tall,  fierce,  daring,  resolute-looking  men. 
"Lend  a  hand  here,  my  good  fellows,"  said  my  hus- 
band ;  "  that  decent  woman  there,  I  believe,  was  afraid 


ADVENTURE  WITH  SMUGGLERS, 


267 


of  me  and  the  children."  They  touched  their  caps, 
and  becoming  immediately  most  respectful  in  manner, 
lent  a  ready  aid  in  every  way  they  could.  We  again 
tried  to  mount  the  hill,  but  in  vain.  The  horse  could 
not  go  up  it ;  and  yet  there  was  the  recent  track  of 
wheels  on  it.  The  men  whispered  among  themselves, 
and  then  told  us  there  was  another  way  out  of  the 
valley,  and  that  two  of  them  would  accompany  us.  We 
thanked  them,  and  they  tmmed  the  horse's  head.  One 
of  them  led  her,  and  the  other  pointed  out  the  path  we 
were  to  walk  on,  by  the  side  of  the  stream,  which 
after  passing  through  a  grove  of  tall  trees,  opened  out 
into  a  small  river.  It  was  into  the  bed  of  this  river 
they  led  the  horse  and  phaeton  ;  and  when  a  large 
stone  impeded  the  wheels,  the  second  man  lifted  it 
out  of  the  way,  and  returning,  kicked  it  back  to  its 
place,  as  one  well  practised  at  such  work.  For  about 
half  a  mile  we  toiled  on  through  the  river,  and  then 
turned  into  a  field.  Om*  guides  pointed  out  the  way 
we  were  to  go,  told  us  there  was  either  a  gateway  or 
a  broken  hedge  to  pass  through,  until  we  reached 
the  high  road,  some  two  miles  further  oif.  "  It  is  a 
poor  place,  sir,"  said  one  of  them,  "it  is  not  worth 
cominor  to  acrain." 

"  Never  fear,"  he  answered,  ''we  will  neither  come, 
nor  send  any  one  to  visit  such  a  lonely  place  as  you 
have  chosen."  The  man  smiled  ;  he  saw  he  was  un- 
derstood ;  and  we  parted,  mutually  well  pleased  to  do 
so.  From  one  of  the  hills  we  passed  over,  we  looked 
back  to  the  scene  of  our  adventure,  and  saw  the  tall 


268 


overseer's  visit. 


*  spars  of  a  rakish-looking  vessel,  peeping  up  in  a  creek, 
Avhicli  could  not  have  been  more  than  a  stone's  throw 
from  the  place  where  we  had  dined. 

I  had  been  a  very  short  time  in  Ireland,  when  I  was 
favoured  with  a  visit  from  a  ladj  overseer,  who  told 
me,  she  had  been  desired  to  call  on  me,  by  Friend 
Oversight,  who  had  received  a  letter  from  one  of  the 
English  overseers  respecting  me.  The  ladj  herself, 
as  well  as  Reuben  Oversight,  were  strangers  to  me ; 
at  least,  I  only  knew  them  by  name.  I  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  read  the  letter ;  but  that  was  refused  me. 
The  lady  was  very  polite.  She  gave  me  to  understand 
that  the  letter  from  England  intimated  that  I  was 
somewhat  deficient  in  orthodox  Quakerism ;  that  I  had 
not  made  my  due  appearance  at  Meetings ;  and  that 
there  would  consequently  be  a  difficulty  about  my  cer- 
tificate. I  told  her  there  ought  not  to  be  any  difficulty, 
as  I  had  never  knowingly  transgressed  any  rules  of 
the  Society.  We  have  been  told,"  said  she,  "that 
thou  hast  frequently  gone  to  Church." 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "often  and  often;  but  there  is 
no  rule  to  prevent  my  doing  so." 

"  There  is  in  Ireland,"  she  answered. 

To  find  it  acknowledged,  that  the  "inspiration" 
which  had  guided  Friends  to  draw  up  their  rules 
for  England  and  for  Ireland  Avas  different,  surprised 
me,  and  led  me  to  inquire  the  cause,  which  I  ascer- 
tained to  be  this.  Some  years  before,  three  or  four 
of  the  Dublin  Friends  had  warmed  themselves  up  to 
an  almost  enthusiastic  excitement  about  the  minor 


THE  JACOB  RULES, 


269 


characteristics  of  the  Society.  The  principles  and 
the  peculiarities  had  hitherto  been  considered  inde- 
pendent of  each  other ;  these  ardent  Friends  wished 
to  see  them  amalgamated.  A  peculiar  costume  was 
not  an  original  attribute  of  Quakerism.  Nothing  of 
the  kind  was  contemplated  in  the  days  of  George 
Fox  and  William  Penn.  They  recommended  a  Chris- 
tian simplicity  of  dress,  in  contra-distinction  to  the 
extravagant  and  most  foolish  fashions  of  the  day, 
when  women  would  sit  up  all  night  lest  they  should 
spoil  their  elaborate  head-gear  by  reposing  on  a  pil- 
low, and  men  wore  chains  to  fasten  the  long  points  of 
their  shoes  up  to  the  knee.  Dress  was  now  to  be 
made  an  essential.  Two,  or  perhaps  three  women, 
and  one  man,  Joshua  Jacob,  who  is  now  the  leader  of 
the  sect  of  the  White  Quakers,  assumed  great  power 
in  the  Monthly  Meetings.  They  planned  out  of 
Meeting,  and  they  professed  in  it  great  zeal  for  the 
regeneration  of  the  Society.  No  body  took  sufficient 
interest  in  the  matter  to  oppose  these  reformers.  By 
0-  little  clever  manoemTing,  they  succeeded  in  gaining 
their  desired  point,  of  having  new  rules  inserted  in 
the  books ;  and  in  making  them  so  stringent,  as  that, 
whoever  refused  to  submit  to  them,  should  be  dis- 
owned. They  decreed,  that  any  one  who  kept  a  piano 
in  the  house  should  be  cast  off.  Any  one  who  put  on 
a  black  dress  for  a  deceased  relative,  should  be  disu- 
nited. Any  one  who  went  to  Church,  or  to  any  place 
of  worship  but  Meeting,  should  be  separated  from  all 
connection  with  them. 
23* 


270 


THE  JACOB  RULES. 


These,  and  several  other  such  like  rigorous  ordi- 
nances, are  now  called,  "the  Jacob  rules;"  they  are 
marked  in  the  Irish  Book  of  Discipline,  by  the  date, 
1836 — that  auspicious  year,  when,  as  a  Friend  told 
me,  a  new  light  had  dawned  on  the  Society,  and  fresh 
vigour  been  infused  into  its  legislation.  It  is  true, 
that  Joshua  Jacob  has  left  the  Society  himself,  and 
incorporated  one  in  which  the  primary  rule  is,  that 
the  members  attire  themselves  in  undyed  garments. 
They  have  cast  honesty  and  even  morality  away,  as 
needless  attributes,  and  are  wholly  and  entirely  repu- 
diated by  the  body  they  once  belonged  to.  It  is  also 
true,  that  the  women  who  helped  him  to  pass  those 
rules,  and  who,  by  their  style  of  preaching,  by  treating 
the  external  forms  as  the  primary  duty,  were  mainly 
instrumental  in  having  these  tyrannical  records  of  ig- 
norance and  bigotr}^  placed  on  the  same  page  as  that 
which  inculcates  the  Christian  doctrines,  have  seen 
fit  to  disown  all  connection  with  him.  Yet  the  rules 
remain ;  and  whilst  the  Society,  now,  unanimously 
censure  the  man,  they  pertinaciously  retain  his  alter- 
ations and  additions. 

The  Pope,  claiming  infallibility,  cannot  annul  any 
act.  In  the  same  way,  I  suppose  it  is,  that  the  Friends, 
having  the  "  inspiration  of  best  wisdom,"  cannot  recall 
any  of  their  decisions.  I  have  heard  many  regret 
that  the  rules  of  1836  were  ever  placed  on  record, 
but  none  spoke  as  if  it  were  possible  they  could  be 
rescinded.  It  was  on  one  of  those  rules  that  I  was 
to  be  tried  and  found  guilty. 


FIRST  DAY  MOEXIXG  MEETING. 


271 


However,  Friends  are  very  slow  in  coming  to  their 
decisions  in  general ;  and,  as  I  was  a  very  difficult 
case,  there  being  no  accusation  against  me  except  the 
one,  that  I  sometimes  accompanied  my  husband  to 
Church,  he  having  many  years  previous  y  left  the 
Society,  they  kept  me  several  years  "  under  dealing," 
during  which  time  I  was  earnestly  engaged  in  ascer- 
taining what  state  the  Society  was  in  all  over  the 
country.  I  travelled  about  a  good  deal,  and  attended 
the  Meetings,  took  notes  of  the  sermons,  and  made 
minute  inquiries. 

I  had  often  heard  queer  stories  told  of  one  of  the 
Northern  Meetings,  and  being  in  the  neighborhood, 
curiosity  led  me  to  attend  it.  The  edification  which 
was  one  Sabbath  morning  given  to  some  hundred 
ignorant  people  there,  was  as  follows : 

A  Friend,  whom  I  shall  call  Tobias,  rose  up  in  the 
gallery  to  preach ;  and  first  pressing  his  hat  firmly  on 
his  brows,  began  thus  : — "I  have  hitherto  been  in  the 
habit  of  taking  oS  my  hat  when  addressing  you.  I 
yielded  to  yom-  weakness  in  doing  so,  but  I  cannot 
any  longer  do  it ;  for  I  have  heard  a  voice  in  mine  ears, 
saying  unto  me,  '  See  thou  do  it  not.'  "  An  old  man 
then  rose  up,  and  vehemently  pounding  on  the  floor 
with  his  thick  old  walking-stick,  on  the  top  of  which 
was  a  ram's  head  for  an  ornament,  shouted  out,  "  Sit 
down,  Tobias;  sit  doAvn  with  thyself,  I  say.  Thou 
art  a  ranter ;  or  if  thou  must  speak,  go  speak  to  thy 
own  people."  But  Tobias  heeded  him  not,  and  went 
on  thus — "  Tlie  cause  is  removed,  the  cause  is  removed : 


272 


FIRST  DAY  MORNING  MEETING. 


therefore  the  effect  must  cease.  There  is  an  elder," 
and  he  pointed  with  his  finger — ''she  is  a  liar,  and  I 
can  prove  it  to  her  face."  He  pointed  to  another — 
"There  is  a  Jezebeh"  And  to  another — "There  is 
an  elder,  who  climbed  up  to  power  on  the  shoulders 
of  his  friend,  whom  he  first  cringed  to,  and  then  be- 
trayed." During  all  this,  the  ram's-horn  stick  did  its 
duty  bravely,  and  the  old  man  vociferated,  "  Sit  down, 
Tobias,  man,  sit  down."  With  such  discourses  as  these, 
and  when  the  Meeting  chanced  to  be  silent,  watching 
the  mice  as  they  crept  out  of  their  holes,  the  hours 
were  spent,  that  were  professedly  set  apart  for  the 
worship  of  the  Most  High.  I  have  often  inquired  of 
those  who,  being  in  authority  in  the  Society,  ought  to 
have  been  able  to  inform  me,  on  what  portion  of 
Scripture  Friends  grounded  their  practice  of  holding 
Meetings  for  the  public  worship  of  God  in  silence  ? 
And  I  find  there  is  no  Scripture  warrant  for  this  de- 
parture from  the  order  appointed  by  St.  Paul,  in  his 
directions  to  Timothy ;  but  that  there  is  some  confu- 
sion in  Friends'  minds  between  spiritual  w^orship  and 
silent  worship,  which,  however  cannot  be  explained, 
as  they  do  allow  the  silence  to  be  broken  by  both 
preaching  and  prayer,  and  still  maintain  its  spiritual- 
ity. A  dear  old  Friend,  an  elder,  once  told  me,  the 
text  in  the  Bible  which  satisfied  his  mind  was  this — 
"There  was  silence  in  Heaven  for  half  an  hour." 
But,  he  added,  "  I  believe  George  Fox  and  William 
Penn  were  more  likely  to  know  what  was  right  for  us 
to  do  than  either  thou  or  I  can  be." 


BALLYHAGAXITES, 


273 


There  is  a  class  of  Friends  who  are  called  Ballyhag- 
anites.  Thej^  are  for  the  most  part  poor  farmers  and 
labourers,  ignorant,  as  might  be  supposed,  of  books 
and  men,  and  manners.  Quakers  are  universally 
proud  of  their  isolation  from  the  world,  and  of  their 
fancied  superiority  in  the  appreciation  of  spiritual  wor- 
ship. These  Ballyhaganites  plume  themselves  much 
on  their  connection.  They  are  very  regular  attenders 
of  Meetings,  and  strain  a  point,  whenever  they  can, 
to  go  to  the  Quarterly  Meetings,  where  they  are  sure 
to  be  invited  to  the  houses  of  the  rich  Friends,  and 
where  they  are  as  sure  to  be  made  great  fun  of  by  the 
young  ones,  I  have  heard  of  a  dozen  of  them  being 
shown  into  one  room  where  were  three  beds.  "  There, 
boys,  sort  yourselves,"  said  the  conductor,  and  van- 
ished. Except  at  Quarterly  Meeting  dinners,  these 
people  never  tasted  wine.  One  of  them  was  observed 
to  relish  the  flavour  of  it ;  but  he  would  say,  "  I'll 
take  some  wine,  if  thee  please,  for  my  stomach's  sake." 
The  entertainer  became  impatient,  knowing  his  man, 
and  exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  be  whipt  to  thee  man ;  can't 
thee  say  at  once  that  thee  likes  it,  and  don't  be  talk- 
ing to  us  about  thy  stomach." 

A  lady  was  one  day  rather  annoyed  at  seeing  a 
troop  of  the  Ballyhaganites  come  in  to  join  a  dinner 
party,  which  she  had  carefully  selected  of  some  very 
aristocratic  Friends.  She  ordered  a  table  to  be  laid 
for  them  in  another  room,  and  deputed  her  son  to 
superintend  their  repast.  This  youth,  to  play  a  trick 
on  them,  and  to  punish  his  mother  for  banishing  him 


274 


B  ALL  YH  AG  ANITES . 


from  the  select  company,  placed  before  the  "  awkward 
squad,"  as  he  called  them,  a  large  glass  dish-full  of 
calf's-foot  jelly.  He  had  previously  taken  care  to 
have  no  spoon  left  in  the  room ;  a  fork  for  each  man 
was  the  only  accommodation  ;  and  with  imperturbable 
gravity,  this  youth  informed  them,  there  was  the  din- 
ner, and  to  help  themselves.  They  had  never  seen 
such  a  dish  before,  and  at  first  thought  it  was  all  glass ; 
but  they  were  hungry,  and  wished  to  appear  as  if  not 
ignorant  of  the  food  placed  on  a  rich  man's  table. 
Fork,  after  fork,  was  struck  into  the  transparent  lux- 
ury, but  all  in  vain.  It  would  slip  back.  One  said, 
Will  thee  give  us  a  spoon?"  "  Certainly  not,"  re- 
plied the  youth,  "  Thee  would  not  be  so  ungenteel  as 
to  eat  that  dinner  which  my  mother  has  taken  so  much 
pains  to  have  nice  for  the  Quarterly  Meeting,  with  a 
spoon.  I  would  be  ashamed  to  tell  her  thee  had 
asked  for  one."  They  tried  hard  to  eat  it  genteely 
with  the  fork ;  but  at  last  gave  up,  and  hand  after 
hand  was  plunged  into  the  dish.  To  see  those  hands 
which  the  day  before  had  held  the  plough,  thus  em- 
ployed, was  just  what  this  youth  wanted.  He  laughed 
aloud.  A  laugh  is  infectious,  and  the  Ballyhaganites 
joined  in  it  most  vociferously,  whilst  they  still  swal- 
lowed the  jelly  by  handfulls.  The  noise  they  made 
brought  in  a  servant  from  the  dinner  room,  to  know 
was  anything  the  matter  ;  but  the  youth  met  him  at 
the  door,  and  bade  him  say  that  all  was  right,  and  the 
Friends  were  only  enjoying  themselves.  It  was  now 
time  to  place  the  second  course  on  the  table,  and  the 


REASONS  FOR  JOINING  THE  SOCIETY.  275 


lad  J,  in  a  whisper,  directed  the  servant  where  to  place 
the  dish  of  jelly.  It  had  vanished  from  the  side  table. 
The  truth  flashed  across  her  mind,  and  in  an  uncon- 
trollable panic,  she  rushed  into  the  room  where  the 
Balljhaganites  were  just  licking  their  hands,  after 
demolishing  her  beautiful  and  anxiously  prepared 
sweetmeat. 

A  young  man,  many  of  whose  connections  were 
Friends,  applied  to  be  received  into  membership.  He 
put  on  a  very  broad  brim,  and  took  off  the  collar  of 
his  coat.  He  was  admitted.  A  lady  was  telling  me 
about  him,  and  saying,  that  she  could  not  understand 
what  had  induced  him  to  join  the  Society,  when  he 
crossed  the  room  and  took  a  seat  beside  us.  She  then 
addressed  him,  "Well,  Richard,  I  was  just  saying, 
that  I  could  not  imagine,  what  had  induced  thee  to 
join  our  Society.    Do  tell  me  what  it  was  ?" 

"Well  then,  Edith,  I'll  tell  thee,"  he  replied:  "I 
have  had  my  fling  of  pleasure,  and  am  tired  of  it.  The 
Friends  are  a  very  w^ell  to  do  people ;  they  have  fine 
credit ;  and  I  thought  I  could  get  on  better  among 
them." 

"But,"  said  Edith,  "thee  had  to  be  convinced, 
Richard,  how  did  thee  manage  the  convincement  ?" 

"My  coat  and  my  hat,"  said  he,  smiling,  "were 
undeniable  proofs  of  convincement.  I  had  not  any 
trouble  about  that.  Cousin  Joe  was  one  of  the  Friends 
sent  to  visit  me  by  the  Meeting,  and  he  w^as  the  very 
man  who  first  advised  me  to  apply  for  membership, 


276 


A  CONVERT. 


and  told  me  how  well  I  would  be  likely  to  prosper,  if 
I  played  my  cards  well." 

Take  care,"  replied  she,  ''thee  has  some  of  the 
old  leaven  about  thee  still.  To  speak  of  cards  in 
Friends'  company  !  I  did  not  image  there  was  much 
of  religion  in  thy  conversion.  Now  thee  has  joined 
us,  I  hope  thee  wont  disgrace  us.  If  I  had  been  one 
of  the  Committee  sent  to  visit  thee,  I  would  not  have 
let  thee  in  so  easily." 

"  Well,  Edith,  you  and  I ;  I  beg  pardon,  thee  and 
I,  know  two  or  three  things,  that  we  are  not  going  to 
tell  any  body,  but  just  wait  for  two  years,  and  thee 
will  see  me  a  standard  bearer.  As  soon  as  ever  I  can, 
prudently,  I'll  begin  to  speak  to  the  Discipline.  I'll 
be  very  humble,  and  very  tender  in  my  spirit,  and  I 
think  I'll  marry  one  of  the  Creidie  girls.  They  have 
five  thousand  a-piece  I  am  told,  and  that  will  just  set 
me  up  nicely." 

Two  years  after  this,  Richard  was  married  to  the 
eldest  of  the  Creidies ;  and,  moreover,  was  made  as- 
sistant clerk  to  the  meeting. 

One  of  the  queries  of  the  London  Yearly  Meeting, 
requires  to  be  informed  of  the  number  of  persons  who 
have  joined  the  Society  by  convincement.  Many 
years  will  often  pass  over,  and  no  convert  have  his  or 
her  name  recorded.  When  one  has  been  returned,  it 
is  a  cause  of  great  gratulation ;  and  as  the  custom  is 
to  wait  for  the  leadings  of  "best  wisdom,"  in  admit- 
ting a  convert,  in  exactly  the  same  manner  as  the 


A  CONVERT. 


277 


ministers  are  appointed  to  a  seat  in  the  gallery;  so, 
if  that  convert  should  at  any  time  after  his  admission, 
give  evidence  of  being  a  most  unrighteous  man,  he 
may  be  notoriously  a  hypocrite  or  a  knave  ;  dishonour- 
able in  his  dealings,  or  false  to  his  word ;  yet  the 
Meeting  will  rather  pass  over,  and  cover  up  his  trans- 
gressions, than  either  put  him  under  d'ealing  or  dis- 
own him ;  as  in  so  doing,  they  must  admit  the  possi- 
bility of  their  own  "  best  wisdom"  ha^'ing  been  an 
erring  guide. 

I  was  lately  invited  to  go  to  the  Dublin  Meeting  to 
hear  the  preaching  of  a  convert  who  is  now  all  the 
fashion.  I  was  told  that  he  was  a  most  wonderful 
speaker ;  that  a  short  time  ago,  he  had  been  a  com- 
mon dragoon  soldier,  who  was  convinced  of  Friends' 
principles  in  one  of  the  London  Meetings ;  had  applied 
for  membership,  and  had  been  admitted;  and  that  his 
preaching  now,  was  so  very  acceptable,  that  he  had 
received  a  certificate  expressive  of  the  London  Meet- 
ings' unity  with  him,  and  giving  him  permission  to 
travel  the  nation,  and  to  sit  with  Friends'  families  as 
^' truth  may  open  the  Avay." 

In  the  year  1836,  when  the  L"ish  Friends  rejoiced 
in  the  new  light  which  Joshua  Jacob,  the  leader  of 
the  White  Quakers,  and  his  female  assistants,  had 
conveyed  to  them,  they  made  a  rule  to  disown  any 
one  who  should  allow  music  in  their  houses.  Some 
of  the  Friends  have  a  natural  taste  for  music ;  *it  is 
one  of  the  gifts  of  God  to  them  ;  and  they  cannot 
help  loWng  those  sweet  sounds,  which  find  an  echo  in 
24 


278 


MUSIC  MISTAKEN  FOR  HEBREW. 


theii*  o>yn  mysterious  being.  Some  three  or  four 
Friends  denounced  the  science ;  but  very  many  can 
see  no  sin  in  cultivating  it,  and  this  leads  to  many 
scenes  which  are  altogether  Quakerish.  A  piano  is 
often  kept  in  back  and  upstairs-rooms,  to  which  no 
overseer  or  plain  Friend  is  ever  admitted.  Musical 
boxes  are  very  common  indulgences;  and  flutes, 
French  horns,  and  cornopians — instruments  easily  put 
out  of  sight — are  great  favourites.  But  if  this  de- 
parture from  Friends'  principles  is  found  out,  the 
overseers  are  on  the  alert  immediately,  to  visit  and 
remonstrate. 

One  day  an  overseer  called  to  visit  a  young  lady. 
The  guitar  was  easily  slipped  behind  the  window  cur- 
tain ;  but  she  entered  the  room  whilst  the  music  still 
lay  open.  Her  eye  glanced  round,  as  an  overseer's 
eye  always  does ;  she  saw  no  piano — it  fell  on  the 
music-book. 

"Is  that  Hebrew,"  said  she;  "I  often  heard  it 
was  a  very  curious  character?" 

"It  is  a  cm-ious-looking  character,"  answered  the 
young  lady. 

"  Can  thee  understand  it?"  said  the  overseer. 

"Oh!  yes,"  she  answered,  "I  can  read  it  very 
well." 

"Thee  must  be  very  clever,"  said  the  overseer. 

Head  knowledge  is  at  a  discount  with  the  Society. 
I  have  been  intimately  acquainted  with  many  over- 
seers, both  in  England  and  Ireland;  and  I  never  knew 
but  one,  male  or  female,  who  was  not  exceedingly 


IGXORAXCE  AXD  ITS  RESULTS, 


279 


deficient  in  scholastic  acquirements.  We  read  that 
^'the  wicked  walk  on  every  side,  when  the  vilest  men 
are  exalted ;"  may  we  not  conclude,  that  the  exaltation 
of  ignorance  has  heen  a  conducing  cause  of  the  ex- 
treme degeneracy  into  which  Quakerism  has  now 
fallen. 


280 


DEALING — VISIT. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

Dealing — visits  to  prevail  on  me  to  send  in  my  resignation — Yearly 
Meeting  Sermons — The  Garret — English  Overseer  visits  in  Dis- 
guise— Ministers'  Sitting — Disowned — Chancery  suit  a  punishment 
for  slighting  Women's  preaching. 

As  I  was  living  near  the  Friends'  Meeting-house, 
and  therefore  a  very  frequent  attender  of  it,  having 
still  in  mj  mind  the  fallacious  idea,  that  a  disregard 
to  the  peculiarities  of  the  Society,  whilst  I  held  the 
doctrines,  was  compatible  with  membership,  I  was 
surprised  to  receive  notice  of  an  intended  visit  from 
no  less  than  four  Friends  together. 

Now  that  it  is  all  over,  and  that  I  have  been  enabled 
to  shake  off  the  yoke,  I  can  smile  at  the  recollection 
of  this  formidable  visitation.  Then  it  was  not  so.  I 
could  scarcely  sleep  or  eat  for  the  three  intervening 
days ;  and  being  in  a  nervous,  delicate  state  of  health, 
I  was  really  very  ill  when  I  was  summoned  to  appear 
before  these  awfully  sombre,  stern-looking  disciplina- 
rians— two  men  and  two  Avomen. 

With  cold  formality  they  shook  hands  with  me  all 
round,  and  then  seated  themselves.  The  silent  wait- 
ing for  "best  wisdom"  now  came  on,  and  lasted  un- 
usually long.    It  was  a  very  cruel  suspence  to  keep 


VISIT. 


2B1 


me  in ;  for  though  I  had  had  many  visits  from  over- 
seers before  this,  still  I  had  never  been  "  under  deal- 
ing," and  I  was  quite  at  a  loss  now  to  conceive  what 
was  the  transgression  for  which  I  was  to  be  chas- 
tised. 

The  Friends  exchanged  looks  at  each  other,  and 
then  one  of  the  men  took  off  his  hat,  and  laid  it  slowly 
on  the  ground  beside  him.  He  fumbled  in  his  pocket, 
and  at  last  drew  out  a  pair  of  spectacles,  which  he 
duly  placed  upon  his  nose,  and,  looking  me  in  the 
face,  began  to  speak  thus — We  have  been  appointed 
by  the  Monthly  Meeting  to  visit  thee.  Perhaps  it 
may  be  well  to  read  to  thee  the  minute  of  the 
Meeting." 

The  other,  a  very  dark-looking  man,  rose  up  very 
slowly,  and  silently  handed  a  paper  to  him. 

He  fumbled  again  in  his  pocket,  got  out  another 
pair  of  spectacles,  and  placed  them  on  over  the  first 
pair. 

People  may  talk  of  mesmerism ;  but  the  spell  which 
is  cast  over  a  poor  delinquent  when  four  overseers, 
one  of  them  with  two  pair  of  spectacles  on,  are  sitting 
in  judgment  over  her,  is  equally  or  more  enthralling. 
I  could  not  exactly  tell  what  was  my  crime,  but  I 
felt  as  if  guilty ;  and  it  was  with  a  nervous  dread  that 
I  waited  to  hear  my  accusation  read  by  that  stern- 
looking  man.  I  asked  for  a  copy  of  it  when  he  had 
done,  but  he  refused  it  to  me,  so  it  was  only  from 
memory  I  could  write  it  down.  The  purport  of  it  was, 
that  the  English  Meeting  had  written  a  private  letter 
24* 


282 


VISIT. 


to  Reuben  Oversight,  which  gave  a  had  account  of 
me.  I  never  couki  get  a  peep  at  that  letter.  Reuben 
had  informed  the  overseers,  and  they  had,  without 
telling  the  Monthly  Meeting  the  particulars,  got 
themselves  appointed  to  visit  me.  In  the  most 
respectful  and  deferential  manner,  I  remonstrated 
against  the  injustice  of  a  private  letter,  which  I  was 
not  allowed  to  see,  being  admitted  as  any  evidence 
against  me. 

One  of  the  women  then  began  to  speak  thus — 
^'Friends  are  well  aware  that  thou  art  in  the  habit  of 
sometimes  going  to  the  steeple-house.  That  of  itself 
is  quite  enough  to  cause  thee  to  be  put  under  dealing, 
and  thy  general  appearance  condemns  thee.  How 
clanst  thou  reconcile  it  to  thyself,  one  day  to  attend 
to  the  ministry  of  an  hireling,  and  another,  to  sit  in 
om'  Meeting  as  a  pure  spiritual  worshipper?  Thou 
canst  not  serve  God  and  Mammon.  Either  give  up 
being  a  Friend  entirely,  or  give  up  the  attendance  at 
the  steeple-house.  It  grieves  me  greatly  to  see  thee 
departing  from  our  customs.  I  had  hoped  better  things 
of  thy  father's  daughter.  Think,  my  dear  Friend,  how 
it  would  grieve  that  precious  departed  relative,  if  he 
could  see  thee  living  in  the  neglect  of  any  of  our  va- 
luable testimonies.  He  was  a  light  amongst  us;  thou 
wilt  never  find  out  for  thyself  a  better  way.  I  really 
cannot  imagine  how  thou  canst  reconcile  to  thyself 
w^earing  dresses,  and  going  to  places,  which  thou  know- 
est,  if  he  were  alive,  he  would  not  approve  of.  Thou 
shouldst  imitate  him. 


VISIT. 


283 


I  replied,  "  I  will  imitate  liim.  What  lie  was,  lie 
was  conscientiously.  Whatever  I  am,  I  will  be  so 
too." 

The  other  woman  then  began — "I  do  not  feel  easy 
to  sit  here,  and  not  remark  on  thy  very  unbecoming 
interruption.  No  one  wants  thee  to  do  anything  but 
what  is  conscientious.  I  do  not  suppose  thou  art  so 
vain  as  to  imagine  thyself  wiser  than  oui*  worthy  pre- 
decessors were.  Thou  art  placed  in  a  very  responsible 
situation  as  the  head  of  a  family,  and  it  is  by  sub- 
mitting thyself  to  due  subordination  that  thou  wilt  be 
enabled  to  direct  thy  children  aright.  I  feel  well  as- 
sured that  if  thy  dear  father  were  alive,  thou  wouldst 
not  act  as  thou  now  dost,  running  after  a  hireling 
ministiy.  Yielding  to  those  imaginings  of  thine  own, 
may  seem  very  specious;  but  it  will  bring  tbee  into 
trouble ;  and,  when  too  late,  thou  wilt  rep.ent  having 
refused  to  take  up  the  cross,  which  is  the  only  way  to 
secure  the  crown." 

I  made  no  reply.  The  dark  man  seemed  to  fear  I 
might  feel  hurt,  and  said,  ''I  hope  our  Friend  will 
understand,  that  it  is  not  with  a  wish  to  censure  her 
we  came  here.  It  is  our  wish,  by  a  timely  remon- 
strance, to  save  her  from  adopting  a  system  which 
certainly  cannot  lead  to  peace.  It  is  for  her  own 
sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  her  father's  memory,  that  we 
wish  to  press  upon  her  the  necessity  of  reconsidering 
her  steps." 

There  was  now  another  long  silence;  at  its  conclu- 
sion, the  Friend  who  had  the  two  pair  of  spectacles  on. 


284 


VISIT. 


addressed  me.  "If  our  friend  has  any  remark  to 
make,  I  believe  we  are  prepared  to  receive  it.  We 
feel  a  great  difficulty  in  the  case.  It  would  be  very 
desirable  to  know  from  our  friend  herself,  what  course 
she  intends  to  pursue.  The  meeting  would  then  be  in 
a  position  to  perform  its  duty." 

I  then  said,  that  being  a  member  of  an  English 
Monthly  Meeting,  I  should  think  my  certificate  should, 
first  of  all,  be  sent  over,  as  that  was  the  rule  accord- 
ing to  the  Book  of  Discipline. 

No  reply  was  made  to  this  remark,  and  after  an- 
other long  pause,  they  rose  up  to  depart ;  the  visit 
havins;  lasted  altoorether  more  than  an  hour. 

The  woman  Friend  who  had  first  spoken,  at  part- 
ing, drew  me  to  one  side,  kissed  me,  and  told  me  the 
Yearly  Meeting  would  soon  be  held,  and  that  she 
hoped  I  would  attend  it.  I  promised  her  I  would  do 
so,  and  she  then  kissed  me  again,  and  said  I  had 
pleased  her  much  by  so  readily  consenting  to  take  her 
advice.  As  her  manner  was  so  afi"ectionate,  I  ven- 
tured to  ask  her  was  I  to  consider  myself  as  being  under 
dealing.  She  said,  "no,  I  think  not,  at  least  not  regu- 
larly under  dealing,  but  we  have  been  desired  to  visit 
thee,  and  I  wish  we  had  a  more  satisfactory  return  to 
give.  I  wish  thou  wouldst  promise  not  to  go  to  church 
any  more."  "  Oh  !  no,"  said  I,  "I  cannot  promise  to 
give  up  my  liberty.  I  have  not,  that  I  know  of, 
transgressed  any  of  the  English  rules,  and  what  more 
can  you  require?"  "I  am  sorry  for  thy  own  sake," 
said  she,  and  took  her  leave. 


YEARLY  MEETING  ; 


•SERMOXS, 


285 


Not  very  long  after  this  visit,  an  elderly  lach',  with 
"vvhom  I  was  intimate,  was  speaking  to  me  about  it. 
She  told  me  the  English  Meeting  had  sent  my  certifi- 
cate over;  but  that  the  Irish  Friends  had  refused  to 
accept  it.  That  the  English  Meeting  did  not  feel  they 
had  ground  to  disown  me  on,  although  my  going  into 
a  Chui'ch  was  sufficient  evidence  of  my  departure  from 
Friends'  principles,  and  the  Irish  Friends,  for  many 
reasons,  did  not  like  to  have  on  them  the  odium  of  dis- 
owning me,  as  it  might  look  like  bigotry,  and  besides, 
it  could  only  be  done  on  the  ''Jacob  rules,"  which 
many  of  the  Society  regretted  had  ever  been  inserted 
on  the  books.  She  then  said  to  me — "  Thee  ought  to 
send  in  thy  resignation ;  it  would  relieve  Friends  from 
a  great  difficulty,  and  be  better  for  thyself.  I  am 
sure  I  would  resign,  if  I  were  situated  as  thee  is." 

The  Yearly  Meeting  came  on  in  due  course ;  and 
as  I  had  promised,  I  went  to  the  first  sitting  on  second 
day  morning.  The  routine  was  just  the  same  as  I 
have  already  described.  Two  of  the  sermons  or  preach- 
ings were  curious,  I  thought.  One  lady  said,  "  her 
mind  had  been  awfully  impressed,  since  she  had  taken 
her  seat,  with  the  conviction,  that  there  was  one 
amonocst  us  who,  necrlectino;  the  shinino:s  of  the  lio-ht 
of  truth  in  her  own  heart,  had  fallen  into  temptation. 
There  was  one,  and  she  felt  as  if  she  could  walk  over 
and  lay  her  hand  on  the  individual,  who  had  tampered 
with  duty,  and  who  was,  even  at  this  moment,  enter- 
taining the  idea  of  uniting  herself  in  marriage  with  a 
person  not  of  our  Society.    She  said  it  was  painful  to 


286 


SERMONS. 


her,  to  feel  called  on  to  speak  on  this  weighty  matter, 
and  she  hoped  the  dear  individual  would  be  kept  from 
the  snare  which  now  entangled  her.  For  her  own 
part,  she  had  resisted  as  long  as  she  dared,  the  point- 
ings of  her  own  mind ;  and  now  she  felt  she  was  clear, 
having,  as  a  faithful  watchman,  given  notice  of  the 
approach  of  the  enemy." 

The  other  lady,  whose  sermon  particularly  attracted 
my  attention,  was  an  English  minister  of  very  high 
reputation,  who  had  come  over  to  attend  the  Yearly 
Meeting.  She  said,  "it  was  deplorable  to  witness 
the  wasting  in  our  highly  favoured  Society,  which  had 
crept  in,  she  felt  bold  to  say,  from  our  culpable  neglect 
of  what  some  deemed  the  minor  doctrines,  which  had 
been  given  us  to  uphold.  As  it  was  minutes  that  com- 
posed the  da}^,  and  days  that  composed  the  year ;  so 
it  was  the  minor  doctrines  being  faithfully  upheld,  that 
led  the  exercised  mind  on,  step  by  step,  to  the  high 
appreciation  of  our  doctrine  of  pure  spiritual  worship. 
And  it  was  when  the  door  was  opened,  by  departing 
from  the  minor  doctrines — she  might  say  the  peculi- 
arities— that  the  enemy  came  in  like  a  flood,  and  swept 
away  even  our  most  precious  testimonies."  She  said 
much  about  the  value  of  our  sectarian  dress ;  it  being 
a  shield  to  defend  us  from  the  allurements  of  the  world. 
And  then  she  expressed  great  surprise  that  any  who 
fancied  themselves  to  be  religious,  could  bring  them- 
selves to  think  it  was  compatible  with  Christian  duty, 
to  frequent  places  of  public  worship.  She  paused  a 
moment,  to  rivet  attention,  and  add  solemnity  to  the 


THE  GARRET. 


287 


words,  and  then  added — "  They  who  do  so,  I  have  no 
hesitation  in  saving,  sully  their  souls  with  a  dangerous 
iniquity."'  This  English  minister  had  been  informed 
of  the  difficulty  Friends  felt  about  poor  me  :  and  some 
of  them  told  me  afterwards,  that  it  was  very  remark- 
able how  she  had  been  led  to  speak  words  so  exactly 
suited  to  my  state  ;  and  how  they  hoped  better  things 
of  me,  than  that  I  should  pertinaciously  resist  the 
spiritual  travail  of  so  exalted  a  minister. 

As  I  was  leaving  the  Meeting-room,  the  same  two 
women  who  had  visited  me  with  the  men  some  time 
before,  pushed  their  way  through  the  crowd,  and  tap- 
ping me  on  the  shoulder,  said,  they  requested  me  to 
accompany  them  to  a  private  room,  as  they  had  some- 
what to  say  unto  me. 

They  led  me  up  stairs  into  a  small  garret.  As  I 
passed  along  with  them,  marvelling  what  was  to  come, 
I  received  several  sly  glances  from  my  acquaintances, 
and  one  whispered  audibly,  '*  There  goes  a  naughty 
child." 

Up  in  the  little  garret,  these  two  Friends,  speak- 
ing alternately,  slowly  and  in  a  half-stifled  voice,  in- 
formed me  that  I  was  not  to  attempt  to  go  to  Meeting 
ever  again.  They  had  been  desired  to  inform  me, 
that  I  had  forfeited  my  pri^-ilege  of  sitting  with 
Friends ;  that  Friends  were  not  comfortable  at  ha^dng 
me  among  them.  I  was  amazed,  and  said,  "  Why, 
it  is  only  a  month  since  you  yourselves  came  to  visit 
me,  with  the  two  men  Friends,  to  remonstrate  with 


288 


THE  GARRET. 


me,  for  not  going  to  Meeting  often  enough ;  and  now, 
when  I  come,  you  tell  me  I  must  not  come." 

"It  seems  contradictory,"  said  one  of  them,  "and 
I  greatly  regret  it;  but  my  very  dear  friend" — and 
she  squeezed  my  hand — "if  thou  would'st  give  up 
going  to  Church  these  trying  things  would  not  happen. 
Thou  must  not  blame  us  ;  we  are  only  informing  thee 
as  we  have  been  desired  to  do." 

"  If  thou  art  resolved  to  attend  a  place  of  common 
worship,"  said  the  other,  "thou  should'st  send  in  thy 
resignation  at  once ;  it  would  save  thyself  and  us 
much  trouble,  and  be  more  creditable  for  thee." 

"I  was  born  a  Friend,"  I  replied;  "I  do  not  in- 
tend to  send  in  my  resignation.  If  I  have  trans- 
gressed any  of  the  rules  of  the  Society,  you  can  dis- 
own me;  if  not,  what  is  my  offence?" 

"  That  is  our  great  difficulty,"  said  the  first  speak- 
er ;  "if  thou  wast  a  gay,  fashionable  woman,  and  fre- 
quented balls  and  theatres,  the  way  would  be  easy 
for  us ;  but  we  all  know  thee  to  be  a  religious  cha- 
racter. However,  thee  must  not  attend  Meeting 
again."    And  again  she  kissed  me. 

As  I  came  down  from  the  garret  most  of  the  Friends 
were  gone.  Those  who  remained,  were  curiously 
watching  how  I  would  take  the  "  wholesome  disci- 
pline" I  had  been  receiving.  There  was  one  whose 
eyes  shot  out  a  gleam  of  malicious  triumph  as  I 
passed ;  and  I  felt  assured  she  had  been  the  prompter 
of  the  disgrace  I  had  endured.  Every  body  knows 
that  it  is  only  very  bad  people  indeed,  who  are  taken 


THE  GARRET. 


289 


up  to  the  garret,  and  I  had  been  so  in  the  most  public 
manner. 

I  Tvas  agitated  and  annoyed,  and  somewhat  indig- 
nant too,  at  the  wanton  insult  I  had  received,  but 
said  nothing.  Fortunately,  as  soon  as  I  went  into 
the  street,  I  met  a  gentleman  who  knew  me.  Seeing 
me  ready  to  faint,  he  gave  me  his  arm  and  conducted 
me  safely  home.  I  told  him  and  several  others  of 
my  acquaintances  the  circumstances ;  and,  acting  on 
their  ad\'ice,  I  wrote  to  some  of  the  most  influential 
Friends,  requesting  the  protection,  which,  by  the 
rules,  I  knew  I  was  entitled  to.  I  received  no  written 
reply ;  but  was  told  that  the  two  women  had  acted 
injudiciously ;  that  it  was  only  one  individual  in  the 
Meeting  who  had  objected  to  my  presence  there,  and 
that  she  had  taken  too  much  upon  her  in  du*ecting  the 
overseers  to  lead  me  up  to  the  garret,  or  in  any  way 
to  prevent  my  going  to  Meeting.  Two  or  three  told 
me  they  had  been  desired  to  convey  me  an  intimation 
that  nothing  of  the  kind  should  happen  if  I  went 
again,  and  that  Friends  would  be  glad  to  see  me 
there. 

The  originator  of  this  intended  insult,  was  soon 
found  out ;  her  eye,  as  she  caught  mine,  when  de- 
scending from  the  garret,  had  truly  told  her  enmity. 
She  was  reprimanded  in  the  gentlest  way  possible,  for 
having  increased  the  difficulty  Friends  were  under 
about  me;  and  then  she  said,  I  had  surprised  and 
disappointed  her  very  much.  She  thought  I  had 
25 


290 


THE  GARRET. 


"  some  spirit,  and  would,  whilst  smarting  under  the 
insult,  have  sent  in  an  angry  resignation." 

This  lady  had  often  professed  a  more  than  common 
friendship  for  me,  nor  had  any  act  or  word  of  dis- 
courtesy or  unkindness  ever  passed  between  us.  But 
she  was  an  acknowledged  minister ;  and  my  attend- 
ing on  the  ministry  of  an  "  hireling,"  as  she  called 
all  preachers,  except  Friends,  in  preference  to  her 
"inspiration  of  best  wisdom,"  was  an  unpardonable 
offence. 

I  was  now  subjected  to  almost  daily  annoyance ; 
cold  greetings  and  averted  looks  met  me  on  all  sides. 
My  nearest  relatives  became  unkind ;  the  trustees  of 
my  marriage  settlement  refused  to  perform  the  duty 
they  had  undertaken  in  my  father's  life-time.  My 
correspondents  wrote  me  angry  invectives,  at  the  con- 
clusion of  which,  I  was  in  the  most  polite  and  friendly 
language  unmistakably  given  over  to  the  enemy  of 
all  righteousness. 

These  things  tried  me  very  much,  and  I  became  so 
ill  that  my  life  was  despaired  of.  The  Friends  did 
not  wish  that  I  should  actually  die.  They  wished  to 
punish  me,  to  make  me  feel  I  had  done  an  evil  thing, 
but  they  did  not  desire  that  it  should  be  known  so 
publicly.  Som.e  awkward  whispers  had  been  heard, 
that  the  Quakers  were  persecuting  to  death  one  of 
their  body,  for  having  gone  to  Church.  They  relaxed 
a  little ;  they  would  send  messengers  to  the  house  of 
the  Doctor  who  attended  me,  to  inquire  of  my 
chance  of  recovery ;  and,  when  I  was  convalescent, 


ENGLISH  OVERSEER  VISIT. 


291 


they  allowed  nearly  a  year  to  pass  over  witliout  an- 
noying me. 

One  evening,  in  the  dusk,  an  English  man  Friend 
called  on  me.  He  had,  when  we  lived  at  Clifton, 
been  a  frequent  guest  at  our  table,  and  now,  under 
the  guise  of  friendship,  he  obtained  admission. 

He  chatted  of  all  the  passing  news,  told  me  of  his 
marriage  and  such-like  affairs,  and  then  abruptly 
asked  me  why  I  had  not  sent  in  m}"  resignation  to 
the  Meeting,  as  he  had  heard  that  I  was  inclined  to 
leave  the  Society  ?  I  smiled,  and  asked  him,  was  he 
an  overseer,  and  had  he  been  desired  by  the  English 
people  to  visit  me  ?  He  was  altogether  a  man  of 
business,  when  I  had  known  him  before  ;  and  now, 
being  enveloped  in  a  fashionable  roquelaire,  with  large 
fancy  tassels  hanging  down,  I  had  not  suspected  what 
he  afterwards  acknowledged,  that  he  was  now  an 
overseer  himself,  and  come  to  find  out  some  accessible 
point  of  attack.  He  became  very  angry  when  I  put 
those  questions  to  him ;  he  lost  both  his  temper  and 
his  manners — he  never  had  a  large  stock  of  either  ; 
and  assuring  me  I  should  deeply  repent  my  folly  if  I 
persisted,  and  that  if  I  would  resign,  and  save  Friends 
the  annoyance  of  disowning  me,  I  should  find  it  much 
better  to  my  interest.    He  withdrew. 

This  was  the  only  visit,  of  the  very  many  I  re- 
ceived, in  which  the  Friends  were  not  studiously  po- 
lite. They  were  often  cold,  and  stiff,  and  stern,  harsh 
and  unbending,  but,  with  this  one  exception,  they 
were  polite. 


292 


ministers'  sitting. 


I  was  soon  after  this  informed,  by  note,  that  two 
ministers  wished  to  sit  with  me,"  and  that  at  twelve 
o'clock  the  following  morning  they  vfould  be  at  my 
house. 

Disagreeable  as  these  kind  of  visits  had  ever  been 
to  me,  still  I  was  really  desirous  of  hearing  any  thing 
they  had  to  say.  My  prejudices  w^ere  all  in  favour  of 
the  Quaker  doctrines,  as  I  had  learned  them  from 
books  ;  and  whilst  quite  resolved  not  to  surrender  my 
liberty  to  love  and  associate,  even  in  what  is  slight- 
ingly called  common  worship,"  with  other  denomina- 
tions of  Christians,  I  was  determined  to  submit  to  all 
the  legitimate  authority  of  the  sect  to  which  I  be- 
longed. It  was  very  evident  that  the  overseers  were 
seeking  occasion  against  me,  and  it  was  notorious  that 
they  were  prompted  to  do  so  by  some  parties  influen- 
tial in  the  Meeting,  who  had  never  forgiven  my  hus- 
band for  leaving  the  Society,  and,  moreover,  "  spoken 
slightingly  of  the  ministry"  of  one  of  the  preaching 
women. 

The  two  ladies  duly  came.  One  was  affectionate  in 
her  manner,  the  other  chilly.  They  invited  me  to 
sit  between  them,  and  the  silence  commenced.  It 
lasted  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  then  the 
English  Friend  spoke.  She  said — "  That  a  painful 
feeling  had  been  the  covering  of  her  mind,  and  that 
she  felt  an  unusual  difficulty  in  breaking  the  silence. 
It  was  a  strange  thing  for  her  to  sit  in  solemn,  silent, 
spiritual  waiting  with  one  who  had  been  nurtured  in 
our  highly-privileged  Society,  and  who  was  related  to 


ministers'  sitting. 


293 


a  gifted  minister  in  it ;  'svlio  had  been  tlie  object  of 
great  travail  to  many  exercised  minds,  and  was  jet 
unwilling  to  take  up  the  cross.  She  was  free  to  say, 
that  it  was  incomprehensible  to  her  mind,  how  one 
who  had  been  so  laboured  with,  could  walk,  and  feel 
peace  in  so  doing,  in  the  way  that  was  not  good — 
walking  like  a  lame  man  leaning  on  crutches,  unable 
to  go  alone ;  depending  on  the  arm  of  flesh ;  drinking 
out  of  the  muddy  water  of  a  man-made  ministry,  and 
deserting  the  pure  fountain  of  living  water.  People 
might  flatter  themselves  that  they  had  found  a  safe 
path  for  their  feet  ;  they  might  reason,  and  delude 
themselves  with  their  specious  reasonings.  There 
were  some  who,  even  in  reading  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
thought  a  light  had  come  on  them,  which  would  give 
them  a  greater  liberty  in  what  they  called  Christian 
communion.  These  things  were  very  specious  and 
soul-deluding.  The  arch-enemy  was  ever  busy  put- 
ting a  gloss  on  them,  to  attract  the  unstable,  who 
wrest  the  Scrij^tures  to  their  own  destruction.  It 
would  be  well,  if  those  who  think  themselves  enliorht- 
ened,  would  carefully  peruse  the  writings  of  our  valu- 
able predecessors,  and  submit  their  judgment  to  the 
experience  of  those  devoted  founders  of  our  Society. 
Depending  upon  our  own  unfinished  imaginations,  was 
not  wisdom — it  was  rashness.  The  wisdom  of  this 
world  was  foolishness.  They  who  had  most  peace- 
fully trod  the  path  of  life,  who  finished  the  work  that 
was  given  them  to  do,  and  who  had  passed  from  works 
to  rewards,  were  humble-minded ;  they  were  willing 
25* 


294 


ministers'  sitting. 


to  be  taught ;  whilst  many,  who  had  indulged  in  the 
fashions  and  customs  of  the  world,  had,  in  the  hour 
of  sickness  and  death,  to  endure  great  conflicts,  be- 
cause of  their  inconsistency.  And  she  hoped  the 
dear  Friend  for  whose  welfare  her  soul  now  travailed, 
would  be  made  willing  to  come,  down,  and  to  sit  as  a 
little  child  at  the  feet  of  the  Lord.  To  do  this,  there 
must  be  a  yielding ;  there  must  be  an  entrance  into 
silence ;  there  must  be  a  forsaking  of  the  outward 
form  of  man-made  worship  ;  there  must  be  consistency 
in  all  things  with  the  precious  testimonies,  which  we, 
as  a  people,  are  called  upon  to  bear  in  the  sight  of 
the  world."  She  paused  for  a  couple  of  minutes,  and 
then  knelt  down  to  pray,  that  her  "  dear,  dear  Friend 
might  have  her  eyes  anointed  with  eye-salve,  to  see 
how  piercing  was  the  reed  on  which  she  had  been 
leaning — to  see  the  beauty  of  holiness — and  to  under- 
stand, that  peace  and  happiness  were  only  to  be 
found  in  the  path  of  duty.  That  the  proud  heart  and 
the  stiff  neck  might  be  taken  away — and  that,  with 
the  beautiful  humility  of  a  little  child,  she  might  be 
made  willing  to  follow  Christ,  as  she  herself  had  done, 
and  in  so  doing  to  find  peace." 

She  then  rose  up  from  her  knees,  and  resumed  her 
seat  in  silence.  It  had  not  lasted  long,  when  her 
companion  commenced,  and  spoke  thus — : 

"  The  feeling  of  my  mind  in  this  interview,  is  that 
of  love  and  sympathy,  and  Gospel  fellowship.  That 
my  dear  Friend  should  have  thought  it  right  to  follow 
on  some  paths  in  which  I  do  not  walk,  may  be  a  source 


ministers'  sitting. 


295 


of  regret  to  me ;  but  I  do  believe,  that  as  she  has,  I 
am  convinced,  endeavoured  to  walk  uprightly  accord- 
ing to  the  light  she  has  received,  her  intention  will 
be  accepted.  The  peculiar  spirituality  of  our  worship 
cannot  be  duly  appreciated,  except  by  the  spiritually- 
minded  ;  and  some,  even  of  that  number,  there  are, 
who  do  not  see  as  we  do,  on  this  all-important  subject. 
The  blind  man,  when  partially  enlightened,  could  see 
men,  but  they  appeared  to  him  as  trees  walking ;  yet 
it  was  the  healing  touch  of  Christ's  hand  that  had  been 
on  him ;  and  so,  my  dear  friend,  it  seems  to  be  with 
thee.  Thou  must  submit  to  a  further  operation,  be- 
fore thou  canst  perceive  the  glory  and  the  beauty  of 
true  spiritual  worship.  The  desire  of  my  heart  for 
thee  is,  that  thy  spirit  may  be  introduced  into  that 
silence,  in  which  alone  thou  canst  scripturally  expect 
that  the  Sun  of  righteousness  shall  ascend  with  heal- 
ing on  his  wings  for  thy  salvation.  Oh  I  think,  I  en- 
treat thee,  how  vain  it  is  to  seek  for  peace  in  the  rites 
and  ceremonies  which  poor,  frail,  ignorant  men  have 
devised.  How  vain  to  hope  for  light  or  instruction 
from  the  ministry  of  those,  who  are  themselves  igno- 
rant of  the  Spirit's  work." 

About  a  fortnight  after  this  visit  had  elapsed,  when 
I  was  sent  a  formal  notice,  that  two  of  the  men  over- 
seers were  appointed  by  the  ^lonthly  Meeting  to  visit 
me.  They  were,  neither  of  them,  men  of  whose  piety 
or  wisdom  I  had  had  reason  to  think  highly,  but  the 
reverse.  Nevertheless  they  were  respectfully  received, 
as  messengers  from  the  meeting. 


296 


DISOWNED. 


After  faithfully  bearing  their  testimony  against 
taking  oiF  their  hats,  as  other  men  do  when  they  come 
into  a  house,  and  have  no  need  of  out  of  door  cover- 
ing for  the  head ;  these  two  attempted  the  usual  silence, 
and  tried  their  very  best  to  look  solemn.  The  attempt 
was  a  failure,  and  soon  given  up. 

One  of  them  said,  "  They  had  been  desired  to  in- 
form me,  that  Friends  had  been  told,  that  I  had  de- 
viated from  the  doctrines  of  the  Society,  so  far  as  to 
suffer  myself  to  be  baptized,  and  to  take  what  was 
called  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  that  they  had  been  de- 
sired to  ask  me,  was  that  the  case  ?  as  I  must  be  aware 
that  I  could  not  hold  my  membership,  and  that  Friends 
would  much  prefer  that  I  should  send  in  my  resigna- 
tion, than  compel  them  to  disown  me." 

I  said,  "Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  who  it 
was  that  informed  you  I  was  baptized,  or  had  taken 
the  Lord's  Supper?" 

Oh  !"  replied  one  of  them  ;  "  I  believe  it  is  un- 
necessary to  mention  the  name  of  our  informant.  As 
it  has  come  to  the  knowledge  of  Friends,  I  trust  thou 
wilt  now  see  the  propriety  of  sending  in  thy  resigna- 
tion." 

"I  do  not  see  the  propriety  of  doing  so,"  I  replied; 
"and  I  request,  and  I  have  a  right  to  know,  who  has 
told  you  this  of  me." 

They  looked  at  each  other,  and  seemed  much  an- 
noyed. "  I  think  it  would  not  be  right  to  mention 
any  name,"  said  one.  "  Thou  knowest  it  cannot  alter 
the  fact ;  and  as  thou  hast  departed  from  our  Scrip- 


DISOWNED. 


297 


tural  views  on  tliese  important  doctrines,  and  that  it 
is  therefore  iinpossihle  for  thee  to  remain  in  member- 
ship, thou  wilt  relieve  Friends  from  what  is  really  a 
very  great  difficulty  to  them.  Friends  feel  it  very 
unpleasant  to  disown  thee ;  and  really  for  thy  own 
sake,  we  hope  thou  wilt,  now  that  this  matter  has  been 
revealed  to  us,  feel  the  propriety  of  writing  to  the 
Monthly  Meeting." 

"If,"  said  I,  "you  have  really  been  told  these 
things,  it  seems  to  me  strange,  that  you  should  object 
to  mention  the  name  of  your  informant.  I  beg  you 
will  tell  me  who  it  is  ?  If  you  still  refuse,  I  must 
only  draw  the  very  natural  inference,  that  you  suspect 
me  of  having  done  these  things ,  and  by  intimating 
that  you  have  already  had  information,  you  expect  to 
obtain  from  me  the  confession  that  your  suspicions 
are  correct." 

"Thou  must  not  think  this,"  said  he;  "we  do  not 
mention  any  name,  no  good  could  result  from  so  doing. 
It  is  contrary  to  our  invariable  practice.  And  thou 
canst  not  deny  that  it  is  the  truth ;  therefore,  really  I 
cannot  understand  why  thou  shouldst  care  to  know 
more  than  we  have  told  thee." 

"  If,"  I  replied,  "any  person  told  you  that  I  have 
been  baptized,  or  taken  the  Lord's  Supper,  they  told 
you  so,  falsely.    It  is  not  true." 

The  two  overseers  looked  very  blank,  and  exceed- 
ingly annoyed.  One  of  them  opened  his  mouth  so 
wide  in  his  surprise,  that  I  could  scarce  help  laughing, 
for  all  I  was  so  annoyed,  at  what  seemed  to  me  the 


298 


DISOWNED. 


meanness  of  the  trap  tliey  had,  as  they  thought,  so 
artfully  laid  for  me. 

Before  long,  another  visit  was  announced  to  me. 
The  Meeting  now  sent  two  different  men,  to  try  if 
they  could  find  out  some  salient  point,  at  which  I 
might  advantageously  be  attacked. 

If  I  had  refused  to  receive  these  visits,  I  knew  that 
I  should  be  disowned  immediately.  That  was  a  prin- 
cipal reason  why  so  many  of  them  were  inflicted  on  me. 
The  Friends  knew  that  I  was  in  very  delicate  health, 
and  that  those  interviews  were  painfully  disagreeable 
to  me.  Nothing  would  have  gratified  them  more  than 
that  I  should  have  refused  to  receive  them. 

On  the  present  occasion,  as  well  as  at  all  the  other 
•interviews,  I  had  insisted  on  having  a  friend  in  the 
room  with  me,  as  it  did  not  suit  my  ideas  of  propriety 
to  meet  them,  as  they  requested  I  would,  according  to 
the  custom  of  Friends,  all  alone.  And  besides,  I  was 
anxious  to  have  a  witness  of  what  passed. 

My  present  visitors  did  not  attempt  the  usual  silence, 
they  chatted  of  the  weather,  &c.,  &c.,  at  first;  and 
then,  just  as  a  matter  of  business,  said,  they  "had 
been  desired  by  the  Monthly  Meeting,  in  consequence 
of  a  communication  from  England,  to  visit  me.  That 
my  attendance  on  an  hireling  ministry  was  incompati- 
ble with  the  rules  of  the  Society,  and  they  merely 
wished  to  ask  had  I  determined  to  continue  such  atten- 
dance." 

I  replied,  that  I  certainly  often  did  attend  at  differ- 
ent places  of  worship ;  but  I  added,  no  Friend  could 


DISOWNED. 


299 


more  object  than  I  did  to  an  hireling  ministry ;  that 
I  denied  ever  having  knowingly  attended. 

Oh  I"  said  one  of  them,  "If  thou  acknowledges 
going  to  Church,  that  is  all  we  want ;  it  is  the  same 
thing.  Those  who  preach  in  Churches,  must  be  hire- 
lings, for  they  take  money  for  preaching.  It  is  absurd 
to  deny  thy  approval  of  an  hireling  ministry,  and  to 
acknowledge  going  to  listen  to  the  preaching  of  men, 
who  give  up  their  whole  time  to  doing  it,  and  then 
take  money  for  it."  "  Do  you  consider,"  said  I,  "that 
every  one  who  derives  his  support  from  the  congrega- 
tion to  which  he  preaches,  is  an  hireling?" 
"Certainly,"  he  answered. 

"Then,"  said  I,  "is  not  yom*  own  Friend,  Sarah 
Dwyer,  an  hireling?  She  has  been,  for  nearly  two 
years,  I  think,  receiving  her  entire  support  from  the 
Meeting.  I  have  been  told  that  both  herself  and  her 
daughter  are  liberally  maintained,  and  their  travelling 
expenses  paid.    Is  she  an  hireling?" 

He  laughed.  "  How  did  thee  hear  that  ?"  said  he. 
"We  did  not  think  it  was  generally  known.  But  she 
is  not  a  hireling,  oh !  no.  Only  her  expenses  are  paid. 
Indeed  it  is  time  for  her  to  go  home ;  for  she  is  very 
heavy  upon  Friends." 

.  He  then  said,  that  "the  rules  of  the  Society  were 
framed  by  men  who  were  especially  enlightened  with 
divine  wisdom,  and  that  they  must  be  obeyed.  That 
the  rules  were  very  clear,  and  that  any  one  who  coun- 
tenanced an  hireling  ministry,  must  be  separated  from 
the  body." 


300 


DISOWNED.  ^ 


"Are  all  the  rules,"  I  asked,  of  equal  import- 
ance?" 

"Undoubtedly,"  he  replied,  "the  rules  of  our  So- 
ciety, as  they  appear  in  the  Book  of  Minutes,  have  all 
proceeded  from  the  Spirit  of  truth,  and  are,  one  and 
all,  equally  essential." 

"  Some  of  the  rules,"  I  said,  "  are  not  attended  to  by 
any  of  the  Friends ;  how  is  that,  if  they  are  all  of  equal 
authority?" 

"Thou  art  mistaken,"  he  said,  "there  is  no  rule 
neglected." 

I  rose  up  from  my  seat,  and  handing  over  the  Book 
of  Minutes  which  I  happened  to  have  near  at  hand,  I 
pointed  out  the  rule  that  all  Friends  should  have  their 
children  taught  to  speak  and  to  write  both  High  and 
Lovf  Dutch. 

He  laughed,  and  said,  "He  did  not  before  know 
there  was  such  a  rule  on  the  books,  but  that  really  he 
did  not  know  much  about  the  book ;  it  was  not  very 
interesting,  and  he  must  say,  he  had  never  read  it  all 
through."  He  and  his  companion  then  chatted  about 
politics,  the  prospects  of  the  country,  &c.,  &c. ;  and 
on  shaking  hands  to  go  away,  they  said,  "they  had  a 
very  interesting  and  agreeable  visit,  and  they  would 
report  it  to  the  Monthly  Meeting  as  most  satisfactory.'' 

I  had  not  the  least  idea  of  what  they  meant  by  the 
expression  of  "an  agreeable  visit,"  and  "most  satis- 
factory;" but  before  long  it  was  made  clear  enough. 
They  returned  an  account  to  the  Meeting,  by  which 
it  was  sent  on  to  England,  that  I  had  confessed  to  my 


CHAXCERY  SUIT.  301 
% 

encourao^ement  of  an  hireling  ministry,  and  that  I  had 
joined  the  Church.  Xow  I  was  to  be  condemned  by 
my  own  words,  and  as  quickly  as  they  could  hiuTy  it 
throu<yh  the  Meeting,  my  disownment  was  to  be  issued. 
And  it  was  with  words  of  regret,  but  with  looks  of  in- 
tense satisfaction,  that  on  the  next  visit  they  handed 
me  "the  testimony  of  disunion."  There  was  very- 
much  that  seemed  to  me  unaccountable,  in  the  desire 
these  people  evidently  had  to  turn  me  out  of  the  So- 
cietv,  for  up  to  the  time  they  disowned  me,  and  for 
long  after  it,  I  had  not  transgressed  any  of  the  rules, 
nor  had  I  been  justly  or  fairly  treated.  As  a  mem- 
ber of  an  English  Meeting,  the  Irish  Friends  had  no 
right  to  put  me  under  dealing  at  all,  even  had  I  trans- 
gressed. 

The  truth  was,  the  woman  Friend,  of  whose  minis- 
try we  had  spoken  slightingly,  a  very  long  time  ago, 
had  resolved  to  punish  us  for  doing  so.  She  and  some 
others,  concocted  a  plan ;  they  contrived  to  ingratiate 
themselves  into  the  favour  of  a  very  old  lady,  who  as 
well  as  themselves,  had  a  kind  of  claim  on  some  of  our 
landed  property.  She  poor  lady  did  not  believe  that 
"  an  inspu'ed  minister''  could  do  wrong;  and  consented 
to  do  as  they  wished,  which  was  in  her  name,  to  put  us 
into  the  Court  of  Chancery — which  is  described  in  the 
Times  Xewspaper  as  being  "a  devouring  gulf,  a  den 
from  whence  no  footsteps  return ;  a  name  of  terror,  a 
bloodless  arena  for  mutual  destruction-  A  Chancery 
suit  which  is  endless,  bottomless,  and  insatiable ;  an 
organized  iniquity:  an  incurable  evil ;  an  inveterate 
26 


302 


CHANCERY  SUIT. 


wrong.  A  Chancery  suit  which  starves  the  education 
and  spirit  of  youth,  consumes  the  energies  of  manhood^ 
and  makes  a  clean  wreck  of  old  age.  As  for  a  thou- 
sand pounds,  it  is  but  as  the  morning  dew  before  the 
burning  sun  of  a  Chancery  Suit,  amongst  the  evils  of 
which  are  the  multiplicity  of  forms,  and  the  opportu- 
nities it  affords  for  vexatious  and  malicious  delay." 

Nobody  can  leave  the  Society  of  Friends,  without 
enduring  some  species  of  persecution ;  and  we  were  to 
be  made  examples  of,  that  none  might  ever  again  dare 
"to  despise  women's  preaching."  To  put  us  into 
Chancery,  which  was  a  notoriously  suitable  way  of 
ruining  our  temporal  affairs,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to 
preserve  the  testimony  of  Friends  against  going  to 
law  with  each  other,  it  was  necessary  to  disown  me. 

They  claimed  a  small  portion  of  our  property,  by 
virtue  of  a  will  made  in  1839,  under  their  own  dicta- 
torial influence,  and  when  the  reasoning  powers  of  the 
dying  man  were  plastic  in  their  hands — a  will,  of 
which  they  told  the  old  lady,  with  sanctimonious 
audacity,  that  it  bore  the  evidence  of  divine  aid  in  its 
composition.  We  claimed  it,  and  had  possession  of  it, 
by  virtue  of  a  marriage  settlement  made  in  1829. 
Nothing  could  have  been  better  devised  for  a  Chan- 
cery cause. 

As  we  were  not  then  aware  of  the  animus  of  the 
suit,  we  complained  to  the  overseers  of  the  injustice 
of  it ;  and  to  avert  the  ruinous  waste  of  property,  of- 
fered to  pay  their  demands  out  of  other  properties, 
without  any  dispute  as  to  the  legality  of  their  claims. 


CHANCERY  SUIT. 


303 


This  they  all  acknowledged  to  have  been  a  fair  offer; 
but  it  would  not  hare  ruined  or  wasted  us  sufficiently ; 
we  must  be  punished.  And  whilst  they  persecuted 
us,  they  wished  to  keep  a  fair  face  on  the  matter,  and 
constantly  made  excuses  for  the  litigation.  "  It  was  a 
minister  who  conducted  it,  therefore  it  could  not  be 
wrong."  "  It  was  too  complicated  a  case  for  Friends  to 
interfere  in."  The  Court  of  Chancery  would  surely  do 
us  justice."  ^*  The  Friends  who  had  instituted  the 
suit  were  most  consistent  Friends ;  it  was  incredible 
to  say  they  were  actuated  by  any  unworthy  motives." 
We  "  belonged  not  to  the  Society,  and  had  no  claim 
on  their  interference."  They  did  not  believe  it  was 
for  the  purpose  of  persecution,  and  they  regretted  we 
should  be  so  unkind  as  to  say  it  was."  "They  had 
full  confidence  that  the  parties  we  had  thought  fit  to 
censure,  would  do  no  act  without  waiting  for  the  ma- 
nifestation of  divine  light  to  guide  them."  "  It  would 
be  a  curtailment  of  the  liberty  of  the  subject  to  pre- 
vent Friends  going  to  law  with  persons  not  Friends." 
And,  "  They  could  not  see  what  claim  we  had  on  the 
Society,  or  why  we  should  expect  them  to  interfere 
for  our  protection." 

So  for  ten  years  the  suit  went  on,  and  still  seems 
as  far  off  being  settled  in  the  Court  of  Chancery  as 
it  was  the  day  it  began.  But  many  and  many  a  long 
bill  of  costs  had  told  us,  that  to  speak  slightingly  of 
a  woman  Friend's  preaching,  is  an  unpardonable  of- 
fence to  the  whole  Society,    The  case  had  been  offi- 


304  CHANCERY  SUIT. 

ciallj  brought  before  them  ;  and  though  they  certainly 
abstained  from  openly  sanctioning  it,  they  positively 
refused  to  interfere,  although,  privately  and  indirectly, 
they  put  the  whole  weight  of  the  Society  in  the  scale 
against  us. 


SA^'D-MAX  MEAL-MAN.  305 


CHAPTER  XV, 

Stories  of  the  Sand-man,  the  ATeal-man,  and  the  Elder — Adoration 
of  the  Quaker  Dress  -  Cleverly  Scroggins — Slipping  into  Heaven 
— Disbelief  of  eternal  puni>:hment — Appeal — Petty  persecution — 
Tithe  Stories — Chancery  Suit — Munificent  Donations — Vindictive 
Punishments, 

Every  body  has  heard  of  the  story  told  of  a  Quaker, 
who  called  aloud  to  his  apprentice  to  come  listen  to  the 
Bible  reading,  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  sanding  the 
sugar.  The  story  may  not  be  so  generally  known,  of 
the  Quaker  who  contracted  to  supply  meal  for  the 
poor,  during  the  time  of  famine,  struck  a  good  bargain 
for  himself  in  so  doing,  and  then  adulterated  it  with 
some  atrocious  mixtui*e,  expecting  that  none  would 
care  to  look  after  the  interests  of  the  poor. 

What  rank  in  the  Society  was  held  by  the  sand- 
man, I  do  not  know,  but  the  meal-man  was,  and  per- 
haps is  still,  an  elder,  in  good  esteem.  That — and 
for  which  he  was  in  open  coui't  indignantly  repri- 
manded— was  not  thought  of  sufficient  consequence 
to  draw  down  any  notice  from  the  Society. 

Roman  Catholics  openly  profess  to  keep  no  faith 
with  heretics,  and  with  them,  all  are  heretics  who  are 
26* 


306 


THE  ELDER. 


not  Roman  Catholics.  Quakers  do  not,  as  a  body, 
disregard  fair  dealing,  and  the  laity  of  the  Society 
in  general,  act  as  other  Christians  in  their  communi- 
cation with  their  neighbors;  but  the  overseers  are 
very  slow  to  take  up  an  accusation  of  fraud  against 
either  an  overseer,  elder,  or  minister.  I  have  heard 
of  no  less  than  seven  charges  against  one  elder,  for 
dishonorable  conduct  in  his  business.  His  Meeting 
professed  to  give  due  attention  to  the  complaints,  dis- 
missed the  several  complainants  as  quietly  as  they 
could ;  but  the  guilty  elder  was  not  subjected  to  any 
"  dealing,"  nor  did  he  in  any  wise  sink  in  the  general 
estimation  of  the  Society. 

I  have  known  of  a  gentleman  who  was  grossly 
wronged  by  a  plain  Friend ;  and  who,  having  in  vain 
sought  redress  at  the  hands  of  the  overseers  privately, 
at  length  went  one  first  day  morning  into  the  Meet- 
ing for  public  worship,  and  told  his  grievance  there. 
Then  indeed,  he  was  attended  to.  The  sin  was  now 
public,  and  the  aggrieved  gentleman,  all  heretic  as  he 
was,  got  compensation. 

The  adoration  with  which  the  Friends  regard  their 
peculiar  dress,  often  exposes  them  to  imposition.  I 
do  not  mean  that  they  actually  worship  their  garb ; 
but  the  morbid  sensitiveness  with  which  they  regard 
it,  is  similar  to  that  feeling  with  which  the  Romanist 
regards,  or  professes  to  regard,  the  pictures  and  relics 
of  saints.  When  the  notorious  J olm  Tawell  was  about 
to  suffer  the  just  punishment  of  his  ill  deeds.  Friends 
petitioned  the  magistrate  to  grant  them  as  a  favour, 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGIXS. 


SOT 


that  lie  might  not  be  hanged  in  his  Quaker  dress. 
Was  it  not  a  feeling  of  adoration  for  their  peculiar 
attire  that  prompted  this  request  ?  Otherwise,  could 
it  signify  in  's^•hich  of  the  rags  of  earth  his  form  was 
clad  ?  The  people  thought  his  conduct  a  disgrace  to 
manhood;  the  Friends  looked  on  it  as  a  disgrace  to 
their  costume. 

Hundreds  of  times  I  have  heard  Friends  speaking 
of  the  dress,  call  it  "a  hedge,"  which  separated  us 
from  the  "people  of  the  world,"  which  preserved  us 
from  the  snares  and  temptations  to  which  they  were 
exposed,  and  which  kept  us  in  safety,  so  long  as  we 
remained  within  its  enclosure.  Perhaps  if  they  had 
been  able  to  build  the  hedge  up  high  enough,  it  might 
be  so ;  if  its  top  had  reached  to  heaven,  the  enemy  of 
man  might  not  have  been  able  to  get  into  its  enclosure. 
But  low  and  earth-born  as  it  is,  it  offers  no  obstruc- 
tion to  his  advances. 

Let  a  story,  in  illustration  of  the  system,  exemplify 
this  fact. 

Cleverly  Scroggins,  from  being  a  bad  boy,  grew  up 
into  a  dissolute  man.  Gifted  with  good  natural  abil- 
ities, shrewd,  calculating,  and  clever,  he  had  the  art 
of  adapting  himself  to  his  company,  and  made  him- 
self so  agreeable,  as  to  ensm-e  a  welcome  wherever  he 
w^ent.  Cleverly  and  his  brother  James,  his  inseparable 
companion,  were  neither  of  them  rich.  Their  tastes 
were  expensive ;  and  honest  industry  was  too  plodding 
a  method  to  suit  their  soaring  genius.  The  two  wise 
heads  devised  a  plan  which  they  hastened  to  carry 


308 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGINS. 


into  effect.  To  the  extreme  surprise  of  those  who 
knew  them,  they  all  at  once  assumed  the  Quaker  dress 
in  its  extreme,  and  with  it  the  Quaker  manner.  No 
hats  had  broader  brims  than  theirs,  and  none  were 
more  pressed  down  upon  their  brows  in  Meetings. 
No  faces  were  better  tutored  to  look  grave,  and  none 
were  more  obsequious  in  their  attention  to  the  over- 
seers. No  Friends  were  more  ready  to  ^'drop  into 
silence;"  and  none  more  capable  of  "centering  into 
nothingness."  The  spell  soon  began  to  work.  The 
preachers  were  delighted  to  see  these  two  dear  young 
men  so  "tendered  under  their  ministry."  The  elders 
were  pleased  with  their  gravity,  and  the  overseers  re- 
joiced in  their  "consistent  deportment." 

Friends  generally,  felt  bound  to  notice,  and  invite 
to  their  houses,  the  brothers.  The  women  Friends 
especially  liked  to  have  such  convenient  additions  to 
their  convivial  parties.  Nothing  could  exceed  the 
good-nature  with  which  they  made  themselves  useful. 
They  carved  well,  and  thought  nothing  of  going  a  mile 
or  two  out  of  their  way  at  night,  to  escort  a  lady  home. 
It  was  very  natural  that  wealthy  Friends  should  lend 
a  helping  hand  to  such  interesting  and  "consistent" 
young  men ;  and  equally  natural  that  to  those  wealthy 
benefactors  they  should  assiduously  devote  themselves. 

Cleverly's  father  often  said,  that  the  Friends  would 
one  day  or  other  find  out  the  true  character  of  his 
sons,  whom  he  was  wont  to  call  a  pair  of  unprinci- 
pled scape-graces.  And  when  he  was  told  of  their 
exemplary  conduct,  and  of  their  "consistent"  dress, 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGIXS. 


309 


he  would  shake  his  head,  and  say,  that  a  bad  son, 
coukl  not  be  a  good  man. 

James  was  taken  into  the  counting-house  of  a  rich 
Friend,  and  gave  entire  satisfaction  to  his  employer, 
until  some  unaccountable  deficiencies  led  to  an  exami- 
nation of  the  books  under  his  care,  and  it  became  evi- 
dent that  he  had  been  embezzling  from  the  day  he 
had  entered  on  the  employment.  Excited  at  his  loss, 
vexed  at  being  duped,  and  annoyed  at  the  disgrace 
which  his  unprincipled  conduct  had  brought  on  the 
dress  of  a  Quaker,  James  was  dismissed  unceremo- 
niously— told  he  was  as  vile  a  hypocrite,  and  as  great 
a  villain  as  could  be  found  in  the  land;  and  that 
unless  he  left  the  country  of  his  own  accord,  he 
should  be  brought  before  the  magistrate.  He  fled, 
no  one  knew  where. 

Cleverly  was  loud  in  reprobation  of  his  brother, 
whilst  he  timidly  and  humbly  expressed  a  hope,  that 
"they  who  attended  to  the  shinings  of  the  light  of 
truth  in  their  hearts,  might  be  preserved  from  falling." 
He  rose  in  general  estimation.  His  brother's  fall  made 
his  uprightness  stand  out  in  bold  relief. 

Cleverly  managed  to  ingratiate  himself  into  favour 
with  a  rich  old  man,  Avhose  oTand-dausihter  was  ex- 
pectcd  to  inherit  a  vast  portion.  With  minute  and 
unwearied  attentions,  with  well-timed  gifts,  and  con- 
versations interesting,  amusing,  and  yet  skillfully  in- 
terwoven with  the  pious  slang  of  the  Society,  he  won 
his  way,  and  soon  obtained  a  young  and  wealthy 
bride.    He  was  now  a  rich  man.    His  house  became 


310 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGINS. 


the  resort  of  the  plain  Friends ;  his  appearance  was 
so  orthodox,  and  his  frequent  "  weighty  observations" 
in  the  Monthly  Meetings,  gave  so  much  satisfaction, 
that  many  said,  they  felt  it  a  privilege  to  be  seated 
near  him,  and  to  meet  him  in  company.  Still  his 
father  would  say,  "Wait  a  while;  he  is  a  hypocrite, 
and  will  yet  be  found  out."  Whether  this  oft-repeated 
opinion  of  his  father's  was  the  cause,  or  whether  the 
Friends  had  any  other  reason,  did  not  transpire,  but 
certain  it  is,  that  when  Cleverly  commenced  to  speak 
on  first  day  Morning  Meetings,  with  a  view  to  obtain- 
ing a  seat  in  the  gallery,  he  was  visited  by  the  over- 
seers, and  admonished  to  refrain  from  public  preach- 
ing. With  most  deferential  humility,  he  yielded  to 
their  desire.  It  was,  he  said,  in  his  "anxious  zeal  to 
promote  the  good  cause,  that  he  had  overstepped  the 
line  of  duty,  and  he  was  most  grateful  to  his  kind 
Friends  for  the  judicious  counsel  they  had  imparted 
to  him."  Cleverly  rose  higher  than  ever  in  general 
estimation.  If  his  zeal  had  led  him  astray,  his  hu- 
mility had  more  than  atoned  for  the  error.  Years 
rolled  on,  and  Cleverly  was  still  referred  to  as  a  tri- 
umphant evidence  of  the  superiority  of  Quaker  prin- 
ciples in  converting  a  sinner  from  the  evil  of  his  ways. 

Cleverly  was  very  wealthy  ;  he  kept  both  town  and 
country  house,  and  drove  his  carriage.  But  Friends 
were  soon  called  on  to  sympathize  with  him,  for  now 
he  became  a  bankrupt.  The  occurrence  was  a  sur- 
prise to  all;  but  his  deportment  under  the  "trying 
dispensation"  as  he  called  it,  was  so  exemplary,  that 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGINS. 


311 


a  subscription  was  made  for  him,  and  feelingly  pre- 
sented by  an  elder  who  esteemed  him  marvellously 
well.  It  seemed  curious  that  he  should  have  man- 
aged to  pay  off  every  one  of  his  Quaker  creditors  to 
the  full,  and  that  the  only  sufferers  by  his  bankruptcy 
should  be  young  children.  One  who  had  an  opportu- 
nity of  knowing  something  about  it,  did  indeed  accuse 
him  of  dishonesty,  and  offered  to  show  the  overseers 
convincing  proof  of  it.  They  refused  to  listen  to  any 
accusation ;  they  said  he  stood  too  high  in  general 
estimation,  and  was  so  exemplary  in  his  appearance, 
that  it  was  uncharitable  to  say  such  a  thing  of  him. 
According  to  the  rule,  he  was  put  ''under  dealing," 
as  bankrupts  always  are,  and  whilst  the  visitings  con- 
tinued he  was  deprived  of  course,  of  the  liberty  of 
sitting  in  Meetings  for  discipline. 

The  Yearly  Meeting  was  soon  to  be  held,  and 
Cleverly  entreated  the  overseers  that  he  might  be 
allowed  to  attend  it.  Bankrupts  are  generally  dis- 
owned summarily.  And  now  to  release  him  altogether 
from  censure,  was  unheard  of  leniency ;  but  the  over- 
seers did  not  feel  it  right  to  refuse  his  request ;  his 
concern"  to  attend  the  Yearly  Meeting  was  so  strong, 
his  humble  demeanour  was  so  edifying,  and  he  had  so 
faithfully  maintained  "  our  Christian  testimony  against 
oaths,"  when  called  on  to  swear  as  to  the  return  of 
his  assets,  that  really  Friends  felt  unwilling  to  put 
any  impediment  in  the  way  of  one  whom  they  con- 
sidered so  great  an  ornament  to  the  Society.  So 
Cleverly' s  bankruptcy  passed  over  uncensured,  and 


312 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGINS. 


what  is  still  more  extraordinary,  lie  was  thought  better 
of  than  ever.  His  bankruptcy  had  not  lessened  his 
wealth.  It  had,  on  the  contrary,  very  much  increased 
it.  A  month  or  two  before  it  happened,  he  had  trans- 
ferred his  right  to  some  property  to  a  dear  plain 
Friend  of  his.  And  a  month  or  two  after  it  was  all 
over,  the  dear  plain  Friend  had  transferred  it  back 
again  to  Cleverly. 

Some  vulgar  people  had  hinted  at  roguery  in  the 
transaction.  Friends  regretted  it  had  transpired;  but 
did  not  feel  themselves  called  on  to  take  any  notice 
of  what  they  said  was  most  probably  only  an  error  in 
judgment. 

Cleverly' s  skill  in  surmounting  such  kind  of  diffi- 
culties became  notorious,  and  he  was  employed,  at 
ample  remuneration,  to  assist  others  who  wished  to 
accomplish  similar  ends,  but  lacked  the  ability  to  do 
so,  and  retain  their  unblemished  Quakerism  at  the 
same  time. 

Money  was  indispensable  to  Cleverly;  his  nice, 
lady-like  Quaker  wife  was  supplied  lavishly  with  all 
needful  comforts,  and  his  devoted  attention  to  her 
was  often  remarked  on,  and  applauded.  With  an 
extra  shaAvl  for  her  use  hung  on  his  arm,  lest  an  ex- 
tra breath  of  wind  should  arise  to  render  its  warmth 
desirable.  Cleverly  would  escort  her  to  Meetings,  and 
to  pay  visits  to  Friends,  looking  so  meek,  so  serious, 
and  so  respectable,  that  the  very  sight  of  him  was 
edifying.  Besides  his  wife's  establishment.  Cleverly 
had  another,  and  another  to  keep  up.    He  loved  va- 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGINS. 


313 


riety ;  but  whilst  he  managed  to  avoid  open  shame 
being  brought  on  the  Society  by  his  licentiousness, 
the  overseers  did  not  feel  it  required  of  them  to  no- 
tice the  frailty  of  his  nature. 

He  was  so  candid,  so  bland,  so  simple-minded,  and 
so  willing  to  explain  his  conduct,  which  he  repre- 
sented to  the  women  Friends  as  being  a  kind  of  extra- 
righteousness  on  his  part,  being  willing,  as  he  said,  to 
have  a  misconstruction  put  by  base-minded  people  on 
the  platonic  liasons  which  he  had  formed  for  the  in- 
teresting young  females,  on  whose  behalf  he  tried  to 
influence  them ;  that  the  ^41er  he  became,  the  better 
he  succeeded  in  blinding  the  eyes  of  those  who  were 
so  credulous  as  to  listen  to  him. 

It  suited  the  views  of  the  overseers  to  affect  dis- 
belief of  his  immorality.  They  deemed  it  more  for 
the  welfare  of  the  Society  to  suffer  his  wickedness  to 
go  on  under  the  flimsy  covering  he  and  they  had 
spread  over  it,  than  by  disowning  him,  to  allow  the 
women  and  young  people  to  hear  mention  of  the 
truth.  "  Oh  I  do  not  let  our  women  and  young  peo- 
ple hear  of  it,  anything  but  that,"  said  one.  "It 
is  far  more  desirable,  bad  as  he  is,  to  leave  him  alone, 
than  to  allow  such  discreditable  things  to  transpire," 
said  another.  He  is  a  wicked  old  man,"  said  a 
third ;  "  but  still  the  young  women  are  not  Friends  ; 
and  there  was  lately  a  very  much  worse  case,  thou 
knows ;  so  perhaps  it  would  be  more  desirable  not  to 
take  notice  of  him  now,  than  to  have  the  young  peo- 
ple talking  about  it." 
27 


314 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGINS. 


The  very  much  worse  case  was,  that  of  two  elderly 
delinquents,  who  were  both,  not  only  members  of  the 
Society,  but  also  both  ministers,  who,  whilst  sitting 
side  by  side  in  the  gallery,  clothed  in  all  the  para- 
phernalia of  the  Society's  most  consistent  costume, 
and  for  many  years  preaching  to  the  entire  satisfac- 
tion of  the  Meeting,  were  yet,  during  all  that  time, 
living  together  a  life  of  sin. 

Many  there  were  who  had  an  interest  in  Cleverly's 
escape  from  censure;  he  would,  and  could  do  any- 
thing they  wanted,  in  "a  pious  way."  Was  it  needed 
that  a  widowed  mother  should  be  set  at  variance  with 
her  legitimate  heirs.  Cleverly  was  the  man  to  do  it. 
How  tenderly  and  feelingly  would  he  break  to  her 
the  sad  intelligence  of  her  own  beloved  son's  crimes ; 
it  was  true,  nobody  but  himself  had  heard  of  those 
crimes  ;  that  only  showed  his  kindness  in  not  allowing 
her  to  be  surprised  by  the  public  report.  It  was  en- 
tirely owing  to  his  care  that  her  ears  were  never 
pained  by  hearing  of  it  through  any  other  channel, 
and  it  was  by  his  advice  that  she  banished  her  son 
from  her  presence,  that  he  might  be  spared  the  temp- 
tation of  sinning  in  an  effort  to  regain  her  lost  fa- 
vour. It  was  Cleverly's  wisdom  that  suggested  to  her 
the  idea,  that  to  alienate  from  her  son  the  property 
which  he  had  a  right  to,  was  a  good  and  charitable 
deed  ;  for  how  could  she  reconcile  it  to  her  conscience 
to  give  so  bad  a  man  the  means  of  living  in  open  de- 
fiance of  the  testimonies  of  Friends  !  And  the  reac- 
tion was  so  natural ;  her  feelings  embittered  against 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGINS. 


315 


her  childj  whose  crime  being  enveloped  in  an  impene- 
trable cloud  only  made  it  seem  the  darker,  how  could 
she  better  bestow  her  wealth  than  on  her  kind,  sym- 
pathizing friend,  Cleverly  ?  He  had  need  of  it  all ; 
his  ladies  were  often  importunate,  and  had  to  be  paid 
well  to  keep  quiet. 

Friends  belonging  to  different  and  far  apart  Meet- 
ings, all  knew  their  man ;  it  was  marvellous  the  num- 
ber who  employed  him,  to  do  what  the  lawyers  call 
"  dirty  work  ;"  and  it  was  equally  marvellous  how  he 
did  actually  accomplish  their  ends  for  them.  Their 
way  was  to  give  him  plenty  of  money,  and  he  was  to 
keep  their  names  as  much  as  possible  out  of  sight. 
Cleverly  made  very  much  money  b}^  these  little  jobs  ; 
he  liked  them  too  ;  he  felt  his  skill  in  accomplishing 
what  others  could  not ;  and  it  placed  them  so  much  in 
his  power,  that  they  were,  for  their  own  sakes,  obliged 
to  conceal  his  hypocrisy.  The  magistrates,  the  po- 
lice, an  innumerable  number  of  persons  knew  of  his 
immorality ;  the  overseers  were  made  aware  of  it ; 
but  they  said,  his  dress  and  his  standing  in  the  Society 
was  such  as  inclined  them  to  think  "  the  cause  of 
truth  would  not  suffer  in  his  hands."  Cleverly  has 
been  known  to  go  from  the  house  of  one  of  his  mis- 
tresses, to  that  of  a  respectable  man,  to  remonstrate 
with  him  on  having  neglected  to  attend  the  preced- 
ing week-day  Meeting — to  another,  to  express  a  hope 
that  his  dear  friend  would  leave  off  the  vain  fashion 
of  wearing  the  gold  chain  of  his  watch  outside  his 
waistcoat ;  and  another  he  would,  with  ready  tears, 


316 


CLEVERLY  SCROGGINS. 


entreat  to  take  up  the  cross,  and  leave  off  the  prac- 
tice of  saying  "you  and  mister."  What,  but  the  ado- 
ration of  his  dress,  preserved  this  man  from  reproba- 
tion ?  How  else  can  we  account  for  the  fact,  that  for 
six-and-twenty  years  he  was,  though  known  to  be 
both  immoral  and  dishonest,  held  in  the  greatest 
esteem  by  the  rulers  of  the  Society  appointed  to  offi- 
ces in  the  Meeting ;  invited  to  their  houses,  and 
actually  supported  by  a  subscription  in  his  infamous 
career  ? 

Many  of  the  men  Friends  do  not  consider  it  any 
harm  to  be  immoral ;  they  are  never  censured  by  the 
overseers  for  this  sin,  unless  it  becomes  public.  Horri- 
fied by  the  depths  of  Quaker  licentiousness,  I  shrink 
from  polluting  my  pages  with  any  other  tale  in  exem- 
plification of  it.  Whilst  I  was  in  the  Society,  like 
other  Quaker  ladies,  I  was  comparatively  ignorant  of 
its  existence  ;  a  succession  of  those  fortuitous  circum- 
stances which  men  call  chance,  has  revealed  it  to  me 
to  an  extent  which  it  is  awful  to  think  of. 

The  mass  of  the  Society  cheat  themselves  with  the 
idea,  that  because  so  many  whom  they  esteem,  and 
who  assume  the  appearance  of  religion,  follow  on  a 
way  which  pretends,  or  which  they  may  in  truth  be- 
lieve, to  be  good,  that  therefore  it  cannot  be  danger- 
ous for  them.  Men  do  not  risk  their  temporal  pros- 
perity thus  rashly  ;  and  surely  if  they  were  convinced 
that  religion  was  a  matter  which  did  really  concern 
them,  they  would  not  rest  satisfied  with  merely  going 
to  Meeting,  and  dressing  up  their  poor  bodies  in  all 


DISBELIEF  IX  ETERNAL  PUNISHMENT.  317 


the  outward  forms  and  fashions  of  the  sect,  without 
examining  and  ascertaining  their  own  individual 
standing  in  the  sight  of  God. 

I  have  heard  a  Friend  say  he  expected,  all  sinner 
as  he  was,  that  his  aunt,  who  was  a  preacher,  and 
very  fond  of  him,  would  manage  to  slip  him  "  into 
heaven  under  her  petticoats."  Alas  !  do  not  most  of 
the  Friends  hope  to  slip  into  heaven  under  the  sha- 
dow of  their  hats  and  bonnets  ?  Heaven  and  hell, 
the  day  of  judgment,  and  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  are 
subjects  which  move  them  not.  Is  it  not  a  just  infer- 
ence, that  they  do  not  believe  in  them  ?  Why  do 
they  studiously  avoid  conversation  on  these  subjects? 

There  is  a  deep-rooted  infidelity  in  the  minds  of  the 
Friends  on  the  subject  of  hell.  I  have  seen  it  oozing 
out  in  the  apathy  of  many,  who  live  as  if  there  was 
no  eternity.  It  is  manifest  in  the  utter  indifference 
displayed  for  the  souls  of  their  fellow-creatures  ;  and 
I  have  heard  it  openly  declared  in  a  large  company, 
without  any  one  gainsaying  it,  that  there  was  no  eter- 
nity of  punishment.  It  Avas  a  woman  Friend,  high 
in  the  Meeting,  who  said,  "  that  it  was  an  insult  to 
the  Almighty,  to  believe  he  could  be  so  devoid  of 
mercy  and  love  to  the  creatures  he  had  made,  as  to 
condemn  them  to  hell,  to  eternal  fire."  She  said, 
"  the  idea  was  right  to  be  taught  to  the  profligate  and 
to  the  open  sinner,  as  we  would  frighten  a  child  with 
the  threat  of  a  punishment  we  had  no  idea  of  inflict- 
ing ;  but  that  it  was  incompatible  with  the  good  and 
gracious  character  of  the  Lord,  of  whom  we  are  told, 
27* 


318 


APPEAL. 


that  'he  is  love,'  and  that  he  is  the  Saviour  of  all 
men."  She  added,  ''Let  us  believe  in  the  Scriptures, 
and  lead  an  innocent  and  useful  life,  and  we  need  not 
torment  ourselves  with  the  fear  of  eternal  burnings ; 
for  if  Friends  live  consistently,  there  is  not  the 
slightest  danger  but  that  an  entrance  will  be  minis- 
tered for  them  within  the  pearl  gates ;  and  perhaps 
it  would  be  wise  not  to  disturb  our  minds  with  diving 
into  affairs  which  do  not  concern  us  as  a  people.  As 
we  know  that  God  will  act  right  to  all  men,  let  us 
act  our  part  well ;  for  nothing  will  be  required  at 
our  hands,  but  an  account  of  our  own  walk  through 
life." 

After  carefully  considering  the  testimony  of  dis- 
union which  the  English  Friends  had  issued  against 
me,  I  resolved  to  appeal  against  it.  I  can  scarcely 
explain  why  I  did  so ;  nor  is  it  necessary  that  I  should. 
The  "testimony"  gave  four  reasons  for  disowning  me 
— a  very  unusual  thing,  for  one  is  generally  con- 
sidered enough.  The  first  was,  that  I  had  joined  the 
National  Church ;  the  second,  that  I  had  refused  the 
dealing  of  the  Monthly  Meeting  to  which  I  belonged ; 
the  third,  that  I  approved  of,  and  encouraged  an  hire- 
ling ministry ;  and  the  fourth,  that  I  never  went  to 
Friends'  Meetings. 

Every  one  of  these  four  sins  laid  to  my  charge  hap- 
pened to  be  false.  I  had  not  joined  any  Church ; 
indeed  I  did  not  well  know,  as  I  was  living  in  Ireland, 
whether  they  meant  the  Protestant  Church  or  the 
Roman  Catholic.    I  had  never  been  under  dealing  of 


APPEAL. 


319 


the  Monthly  Meeting  to  which  I  belonged.  It  was 
the  Irish  Friends  who  had  put  me  under  dealing,  on 
their  own  "  Jacob  rules,"  without  any  precedent,  and 
for  the  sole  purpose  of  pleasing  those  individuals  whom 
I  had  unfortunately  offended.  I  had  never  approved 
of,  or  encouraged  an  hireling  ministry ;  although  I 
had  refused  to  apply  the  insulting  epithet  to  all  the 
honoured  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England  and 
Ireland.  And  it  was  equally  untrue,  that  I  had 
ceased  to  attend  Friends'  Meetings;  for  I  went  there 
almost  regularly  once  a  week.  So  I  gave  the  regular 
notice  of  appeal,  and  demanded  a  copy  of  all  the 
minutes  of  the  Monthly  Meeting  which  had  reference 
to  my  case.  This  I  had  a  right  to.  The  English 
Friends  threw  every  possible  impediment  in  my  way ; 
and  gave  me  the  different  "  minutes"  one  by  one,  with 
an  interval  of  a  month  between  each.  By  chance  I 
found  out  that  the  individuals  who  wanted  to  have  me 
disunited,  had  much  difficulty  in  making  out  a  case 
sufficiently  strong  for  the  Monthly  Meeting  to  act  on ; 
for  although  the  Irish  Quakers  were  most  willing  to 
assist  them,  they  had  not  been  able  to  overcome  the 
'difficulty"  they  found  in  my  case,  as  I  had  not 
transgressed  any  legitimate  rule.  The  plan  they 
finally  adopted  was — they  desired  their  assistant  clerk 
to  write  a  private  letter  to  a  person  living  near  me, 
who  they  knew  was  trying  to  rise  in  the  Meeting,  and 
would  therefore  be  likely  to  accept  the  office.  He 
was  to  watch  me  narrowly,  to  find  out  some  flaw  in 
my  conduct  and  character ;  and  if  he  could  not  do  so, 


320 


PETTY  PERSECUTION. 


he  was  to  invent  something  which  w^ould  satisfy  the 
Meeting,  and  induce  them  to  disown  me.  The  plan 
succeeded ;  and  on  those  letters  I  was  found  guilty, 
and  cast  off  from  all  Christian  communion  with  the 
Society  in  which  I  was  born,  and  in  which  still  re- 
mained many  of  my  nearest  and  dearest  relatives. 
One  of  the  letters  I  obtained,  and  was  able  to  refute; 
the  other  was  positively  refused.  They  said,  "  it  was 
burnt" — it  was  lost" — "it  did  not  bear  on  the  case" 
— "it  was  of  no  consequence."  I  appealed,  accord- 
ing to  all  due  forms,  to  the  Quarterly  Meeting,  and 
was  immediately  reinstated  in  membership. 

The  Friends  were  very  angry  with  me.  It  was  as 
if  I  had  disturbed  an  hornet's  nest — I  was  stung  on 
all  sides.  They  do  not  like  appeals.  It  was,  in  their 
"  best  wisdom"  they  had  disowned  me.  The  Quartely 
Meeting,  in  reinstating  me,  had  declared,  as  plainly 
as  in  words,  that  "  the  best  wisdom"  was  not  good  at 
all,  and  I  became  an  object  of  inveterate  hatred  to 
the  overseers  and  elders,  who  considered  themselves 
disgraced  by  the  mere  mention  of  my  name.  One  of 
them  said,  "  The  name  was  like  a  thorn  in  his  side, 
and  prevented  him  from  sleeping." 

I  will  just  relate  one  of  the  many  instances  in  which 
Friends  tried  to  punish  me,  for  my  hardihood  in  dar- 
ing publicly  to  dispute  their  infallibility.  It  was  on 
the  occasion  of  my  brother's  marriage.  According  to 
the  usual  etiquette,  I  should  have  gone  with  him  and 
his  bride  into  the  Monthly  Meetings,  to  hear  their 
declaration.    These  points  of  etiquette  are  deemed  of 


PETTY  PERSECUTION. 


321 


great  importance  in  the  Society ;  and  to  disgrace  me 
bv  it,  they  resolved  I  should  not  be  permitted  to  enter 
the  Monthly  Meeting  with  the  bridal  train.  One 
after  another  near  relative  was  invited  to  take  my 
place,  and  refused,  because  tbey  would  not  be  a  party 
to  the  slight  intended  on  me.  The  bride's  family 
were  unwilling  I  should  imagine  they  were  individu- 
ally capable  of  insulting  me  ;  and  they  informed  me, 
that  it  was  two  high  Friends  who  objected  to  my  com- 
pany, and  who  felt  reluctance  to  allow  me  to  sit  ten 
minutes  in  the  house  appointed  for  worship  with 
them. 

In  innumerable  such-like  little  trifling,  and  almost 
indescribable  ways  I  was  persecuted,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  great  persecution  of  the  Chancery  suit,  which 
was,  term  after  term  wasting  our  property,  and  by 
which  we  have  lost  already  several  thousand  pounds, 
both  directly  and  indirectly. 

When  any  Friend  incurs  the  hatred  of  the  Society, 
it  is  an  easy  matter  to  punish  him.  His  connections 
being  still  amongst  them,  of  course  his  property  is 
more  or  less  liable  to  be  influenced;  and  they  are 
stirred  up — in  some  cases  by  slander,  as  in  mine — 
in  others,  by  a  scruple  of  conscience  to  maintain  any 
dealings  with  those  who  have  incurred  the  censure  of 
Friends — and  in  others,  by  a  feeling  of  personal  gra- 
tification, in  chastening  the  delinquent. 

There  was  another  appeal  to  the  Society,  just  at 
the  same  time  as  mine,  which  interested  me  much, 
and  which  afi"orded  another  curious  development  of 


322 


PETTY  PERSECUTION. 


Quakerism.  A  gentleman  of  the  most  upright  and 
irreproachable  character  was  disowned  by  the  Society, 
because  he  had  not,  as  they  considered,  faithfully 
maintained  their  ^'  testimony  against  paying  tithes." 
He  was  agent  to  a  nobleman,  a  large  landed  proprie- 
tor, and,  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty,  he  had  paid  the 
tithe  rent-charge  legally  due.  It  was  on  his  employ- 
er's account,  not  his  own ;  but  for  not  suffering  a  dis- 
traint on  the  property,  as  Friends  do,  he  was  igno- 
miniously  turned  out  of  the  Society.  He  appealed 
against  the  sentence,  and  the  Yearly  Meeting,  after 
long  and  serious  investigation,  decided  against  him. 
They  decided,  that  he  should  have  refused  to  pay 
tithes  under  any  circumstances  whatever.  But  it 
transpired  that  they  were  a  little  bit  ashamed  of  their 
own  decision ;  for  they  caused  it  to  be  intimated  to 
him,  and  to  all  of  us,  that  if  he  wished  to  be  rein- 
stated in  membership,  and  would  apply  for  it  by  letter, 
no  impediment  would  be  placed  in  his  way. 

Friends  find  it  very  difficult  "to  maintain  their 
testimony  against  paying  tithes,"  in  Ireland,  where 
landed  property  is  so  much  more  in  their  possession 
than  in  England.  Many  have  been  disowned,  because 
they  had  not  a  sufficient  elasticity  of  conscience  to 
enable  them,  for  the  sake  of  upholding  this  most  un- 
tenable doctrine  of  the  Society — to  resist  their  own 
sense  of  right  and  wrong — their  personal  advantage 
— the  law  of  the  land,  and  the  command  of  Scripture, 
"Submit  yourselves  to  every  ordinance  of  man  for 
the  Lord's  sake." 


TITHE  STORIES. 


323 


I  have  heard  many  stories,  told  by  the  actors  them- 
selves, of  how  they  managed  "to  cheat  the  devil  in 
the  dark,"  as  one  of  them  laughingly  expressed  it. 
In  my  English  Quaker  experience,  I  have  told  how 
"the  testimony"  is  sometimes  managed  there.  The 
Irish  Friends  are  quite  as  clever  in  a  different  way. 

Thus,  a  sack  of  wheat  was  once  placed  in  a  very 
conspicuous  position  in  a  barn,  when  it  was  known  the 
tithe  collectors  were  coming  to  distrain.  The  owner 
stood  by,  and  said  to  them,  '-Look  at  that  sack  of 
wheat ;  I  would  not  for  five  pounds  seven  and  sixpence 
lose  that."  Five  pounds  seven  and  sixpence  was  the 
exact  sum  demanded.  The  men  immediately  lifted  it 
up  on  the  car  they  had  brought  with  them,  and  drove 
off  a  little  beyond  the  end  of  the  avenue ;  they  then 
turned  back  again.  The  Quaker  had  not  moved  from 
the  spot  he  stood  in.  They  said,  "  Sir,  will  you  buy 
a  fine  sack  of  wheat  from  us?  "What  is  the  price?" 
asked  Broadbrim;  "let  me  look  at  it."  He  opened 
the  sack,  rubbed  the  grain  in  his  hand,  and  said,  it 
was  very  prime. 

"  Come,  Sir,  be  quick,  will  you  buy  it  for  five 
pounds  seven  and  sixpence." 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "I  will,"  and  drew  the  amount 
out  of  his  pocket.  The  sack  was  restored  to  its  proper 
place.  The  collectors  received  an  extra  shilling,  with 
which  to  drink  the  Friend's  health,  and  ver}"  likely  to 
laugh  heartily  at  the  curious  anomaly,  a  Quaker's 
conscience. 

A  gentleman  who  has  now  left  the  Friends,  and 


324 


TITHE  STORIES. 


joined  the  Church  of  England  and  Ireland,  told  me, 
that  when  he  was  a  Quaker,  his  plan  of  evading  the 
payment,  and  supporting  the  testimony,  was,  to  leave 
— as  if  by  chance,  cartridges  of  half-pence  rolled  up 
in  papers  to  a  larger  amount  than  the  sum  demanded, 
in  a  conspicuous  place.  The  collectors  would  only 
take  the  right  sum,  and  the  testimony  was  upheld 
most  satisfactorily. 

Conscience  works  in  another  way  in  some.  A  very 
plain  Eriend,  who  once  refused  to  accept  an  invitation 
to  dine  at  the  house  of  an  elder  in  the  Society,  because 
I  was  one  of  the  invited  guests  also ;  and  he  said,  he 
could  not  reconcile  it  to  his  conscience,  to  sit  at  the 
same  hospitable  board  with  one  who  had  incurred  the 
censure  of  the  Society ;  he  was  a  landed  proprietor. 
He  scrupled  either  to  pay  or  to  evade  the  tithe  rent- 
charge.  He  Avas  of  course  distrained — his  horse  one 
year,  his  jaunting-car  another.  This  was  unpleasant 
— it  was  unendurable.  Martyrdom  any  way  is  very 
trying — martyrdom  of  the  pocket  especially  so.  This 
plain  Eriend  resolved  to  sell  his  property,  and  did  so. 
He  sold  it  to  his  own  younger  brother.  That  younger 
brother  was  disowned  by  the  Society  for  paying  tithes. 
Now  if  it  was  a  crime  for  the  elder  brother  to  pay 
them,  was  he  not  doubly  culpable  in  putting  the 
temptation  to  sin  in  his  younger  brother's  wa3^  But 
this  is  not  the  end  of  the  story.  The  younger  brother, 
disowned  by  the  Society,  and  now  proprietor  of  the 
land,  was  in  want  of  a  tenant  for  a  nice  little  farm  on 
it.  The  elder  came  forward  and  offered  himself.  He 


CHANCERY  SUITS. 


825 


was  accepted ;  and  no  scruple  of  his  tender  conscience 
impeded  his  enjoyment  of  the  land. 

Oh !  Friends !  Friends !  God  cannot  be  mocked. 
You  will  assuredly  have  much  to  answer  for,  in  the 
day  of  judgment,  for  your  hypocritical  evasions  in 
paying  tithes,  if  it  is  a  sin  against  God's  law  to  do  so ; 
and  for  your  refusal  to  pay  them,  if  that  springs  from 
your  imagined  "inconsistency  of  tithes  with  the  nature 
of  the  Gospel  dispensation,"  or  even  from  your  "firm 
conviction,  that  to  abide  faithful  in  your  testimony 
against  paying  tithes,  steeple-house  rates,  and  priests' 
maintenance,  has  greatly  tended  to  the  opening  of  the 
eyes  of  many,  not  only  in  this,  but  also  in  other 
Gauntries,"  unless  you  can  show,  that  by  refusing  to 
submit  to  this  ordinance  of  man,  you  have  obeyed  the 
law  of  God. 

There  is  only  one  text  of  Scripture  given  by  Friends 
as  the  ground  on  which  they  have  built  up  their 
testimony,  in  which  they  say,  in  their  Book  of  Min- 
utes, "  We  believe  that  this  testimony  to  the  purity 
and  freedom  of  genuine  Gospel  ministry,  strongly 
evinces  that  the  formation  of  our  Society  was  not  an 
effort  of  human  wisdom;  neither  is  there  anything 
more  calculated  to  sap  our  foundation,  and  render  us 
a  degenerate  church,  than  a  departure  from  this  prin- 
ciple"— the  text,  "Freely  ye  have  received,  freely 
give."  My  vision  is  too  opaque  to  discover  the  con- 
nection between  "Freely  give,"  and  "This  Meeting 
declares  it  is  its  sense  and  judgment  that  no  Friend 
28 


826 


CHANCERY  SUITS. 


in  truth  can  pay  tithes,  it  being  inconsistent  with  our 
Christian  testimony." 

To  return  to  my  own  story.    I  had  often  heard 
it  said,  that  it  was  never  worth  any  one's  while  to 
appeal  to  the  Society,  for  that  even  if  the  appeal  was 
successful,  you  would  have  to  leave  the  sect  sooner  or 
later.  That  you  would  be  tormented  into  a  voluntary 
resignation.    It  was  literally  so  with  me.    I  still  had 
an  unaccountable  hankering  after  the  silent  Meeting, 
an  indestructible  affection  for  very  many  of  the 
Friends,  and  an  intense  anxiety  to  be  a  true  spiritual 
worshipper  of  the  Mighty  God,  who  I  knew  was  pre- 
sent everywhere  that  his  Spirit  was  invoked.    But  I 
was  soon  obliged  to  give  up  going  to  Meeting;  cold 
looks  from  some,  chilly  salutations  from  others,  and 
rude  pushes  from  more,  were  unpleasant ;   and  in 
addition  to  this,  the  one   solitary  minister  in  the 
Meeting,  would  not  preach  when  I  was  present.  I 
did  not  therefore  like,  or  think  it  right,  to  go  where 
I  was  evidently  so  unwelcome,  and  where  my  presence 
presented  an  impediment  to  "  the  immediate  teaching 
and  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  whereby  acceptable 
worship  is  performed,  and  all  true  Gospel  ministry 
supplied. ' '  I  therefore  sent  in  my  resignation,  although 
even  when  doing  so,  I  held  many  of  the  Quaker  doc- 
trines, and  would  gladly  have  remained,  had  they  al- 
lowed me  quietly  and  unmolested,  to  live  in  peace 
amongst  them.    I  felt  very  indignant  at  the  injustice 
done  us ;  and  in  my  letter  of  resignation,  I  recapitu- 


MUNIFICENT  DONATIONS. 


32T 


lated  our  Avrongs,  and  openly  and  by  name  charged 
our  persecutors  with  dishonest,  disreptuable,  and  un- 
christian conduct.  My  letter  was  received  most  meek- 
ly; and  I  was  told  it  was  quite  satisfactor3^ 

Acting  under  advice,  I  then  sent  a  concise  statement 
of  the  persecution  which  a  few  Friends,  backed  by 
three  Monthly  Meetings,  had  so  annoyed  and  injured 
us  by,  to  every  single  one  of  the  leading  Friends  in 
England  and  Ireland,  and  also  to  the  Meeting  for 
Sufferings  ;  and  entreated  them  to  restrain  their  mem- 
bers from  entirely  ruining  us  by  the  vexatious  Chan- 
cery suit  they  had  so  long  carried  on,  requesting  them 
to  look  into  the  characters  of  our  persecutors,  one  at 
least  of  whom,  though  of  so  very  high  standing  in  the 
Society,  was  a  notoriously  disreputable  and  false  man, 
and  offering  to  leave  the  decision  of  our  cause  to  any 
two  Christian  men,  either  in  or  out  of  the  Society. 
The  answers  we  received  were  all  intimating  that  the 
punishment  inflicted  on  us  was  not  at  all  greater  than 
we  deserved,  and  that  our  persecutors  had  the  entire 
sympathy  of  the  Society  in  their  treatment  of  us. 

The  plea  of  the  suit  is  of  course  to  recover  money 
claimed;  whilst  the  real  reason  is,  to  punish  us  for 
going  to  Church  and  for  speaking  slightingly  of  wo- 
men's preaching.  The  plaintiffs  are  are  all  wealthy 
Friends ;  the  newspapers  now  and  then  record  their 
munificent  donations  to  hospitals,  infirmaries,  &c.  &;c., 
sometimes  amounting  to  a  thousand  pounds  at  a  time. 
Indeed  these  public  donations  have  followed,  like  cause 
and  effect,  after  some  peculiar  injustice  inflicted  on  us* 


328 


VINDICTIVE  PUNISHMENTS. 


No  one  could  believe  that  for  the  sum  of  fourteen 
pounds  five  shillings  per  annum,  these  benevolent  in- 
dividuals, whose  liberality  is  so  notorious,  would  insti- 
tute a  Chancery  suit,  especially  where  their  claim  was 
never  denied,  although  it  might  have  been. 

Eriends  often  claim  for  themselves  credit  for  being 
free  from  the  sin  of  persecution ;  and  therefore  it  is 
that  I  relate  this,  my  experience,  of  their  tender 
mercy. 

Sad  stories  have  been  told  me  of  the  misery  and 
destitution  which  Friends  have  unpityingly  caused  to 
others  who  have  offended  them. 

One  young  man,  for  "neglecting  to  bear  his  testi- 
mony against  an  hireling  ministry,  by  suffering  himself 
to  be  joined  in  marriage  by  a  priest,"  was  deprived 
of  property  amounting  to  fifteen  thousand  pounds. 

Another,  for  the  same  unpardonable  offence,  died 
for  want  of  proper  food  and  clothing,  whilst  his  pa- 
rents rolled  to  Meeting  in  their  carriage. 

I  think  it  was  O'Connell  who  said,  "that  one  fact 
was  worth  a  cart-load  of  arguments."  I  do  not  feel 
at  all  competent  to  argue ;  but  I  can  supply  an  abun- 
dant store  more  of  facts,  if  those  I  have  already 
narrated  are  not  considered  sufficiently  demonstrative 
of  my  assertion,  that  Quakers,  as  a  sect,  are  unrivalled 
in  their  vindictive  persecution  of  those,  who  once  be- 
longing to  their  body,  have  dared  to  separate,  either 
from  conscience  sake,  or  from  any  other  motive. 


WHITE  QUAKERS. 


329 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

White  Quakers — Favourite  Texts — Sidcot  School — Providential 
Thunder  Storm — Indifference  to  Sin — Youth's  Meetings — Sunday- 
Schools — Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper — Conclusion. 

Having-  repeatedly  had  occasion  to  speak  of  the 
"Jacob  Rules,"  it  is  necessary  to  explain  something 
about  the  origin  of  them.  It  was,  I  think,  in  the 
years  1835  and  1886,  that  a  Friend,  named  Joshua 
Jacob,  took  a  very  prominent  part  in  the  Dublin 
Monthly  Meeting.  His  wife  also  became  particularly 
efficient  in  the  women's  Meeting.  In  some  respects, 
like  the  modern  Puseyites,  they  were  for  reviving  the 
obsolete  customs  of  the  early  Quakers.  To  adhere 
strictly  to  the  phraseology  of  George  Fox,  to  imitate 
his  eccentricities — to  throw  back  the  innovations 
which  had  crept  in,  and  to  revivify  the  Society  in  all 
its  original  quaintness — appeared  to  be  their  object. 
As  George  Fox  had  been  "inspired  by  the  shining  of 
the  light  within"  to  originate,  and  had  been  enabled, 
in  "best  wisdom,"  to  establish  the  Society,  and,  aided 
by  Robert  Barclay,  William  Penn,  and  some  others, 
who  were  equally  gifted,  had  published  rules,  and  laws, 
and  by-laws;  and  as  their  teaching  was  principally 
directed  to  exalt  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the 
heart  of  man,  in  contra-distinction  to  the  great  error 
28* 


330 


WHITE  QUAKERS. 


of  the  day — an  exaltation  of  the  outward  forms  and 
ceremonies  of  religious  worship;  so  these  Friends, 
Jacob  and  a  few  others,  claimed  for  themselves  the 
same  "inspiration,"  and  the  same  "best  wisdom," 
with  which  now  to  dictate,  and  to  govern. 

The  Dublin  Friends  were  greatly  pleased  with  what 
they  deemed  and  called  a  "New  Light,  which  had 
been  vouchsafed  to  the  Society,  to  preserve  it  from  the 
degeneracy  which,  for  some  previous  years,  had  been 
assimilating  them  to  Christians  of  other  Churches." 
With  deferential  submission,  they  accepted  "the  lead- 
ings andguidings"  of  those  "gifted  individuals ;"  and 
at  their  suggestion,  the  Yearly  Meeting  added  to  the 
Book  of  Discipline  several  stringent  rules,  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  Friends,  being  once  inserted 
there,  must  remain  until  the  end. 

The  Jacobs,  mistaking  their  imaginings  for  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  greatly  puffed  up  in 
their  own  estimation  by  the  deference  conceded  to 
them,  yielded  very  naturally  to  that  inherent  desire 
which  man  has  to  assume  control  over  the  intellect  of 
his  fellow-man,  and  to  bend  another  to  his  own  opinion. 
So  much  of  their  "best  wisdom"  having  been  thus 
accepted  by  the  Society  at  large,  "fresh  guidings" 
were  frequently  volunteered,  until  at  last  common 
sense  revolted,  and  reason  in  some  degree  resumed 
her  sway. 

Jacob  had  succeeded  in  convincing  the  Meeting,  that 
to  go  "to  any  place  of  common  worship,"  to  "wear 
mourning  for  a  deceased  relative  or  friend,"  to  "allow 


TOITE  QUAKERS. 


331 


a  musical  instrument  inside  the  door,"  &c.  kc,  were 
sins  of  such  enormity,  as  required  that  the  offender 
should  immediately  be  disowned.  He  now  wished  to 
go  farther,  and  set  an  example  for  their  imitation. 

Blue  had  long  been  a  forbidden  colour  for  Friends 
to  wear.  Jacob  declared,  that  "the  simplicity  of  god- 
liness required  that  all  men  and  women  should  array 
themselves  in  white.  With  untanned  shoes,  unbleached 
stockings,  flannel-coloured  knee-breeches,  coat  and 
waist-coat,  and  a  light  drab  broad-brimmed  hat,  he 
appeared  in  the  Meeting,  accompanied  by  his  wife, 
who  was  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  coarse,  unbleached 
calico.  He  would  not  allow  anything  to  be  in  his 
house,  except  it  were  white.  His  walls  were  white- 
washed, and  his  doors  painted  white.  His  wife  united 
heart  and  hand  in  his  "guiding."  One  morning  she 
collected  every  article  of  china  and  earthenware  in 
her  house,  on  which  was  any  colour,  or  even  gilding. 
She  opened  her  hall-door,  and  on  the  door  steps 
smashed  them  all  to  pieces.  Her  husband  applauded 
her  "noble  deed"  as  he  called  it;  delighted  at  such 
praise  from  him,  she  continued  the  work  of  demoli- 
tion ;  her  looking-glasses  were  brought  out  next  and 
destroyed  with  a  large  stone  which  she  picked  up  in 
the  street;  for  this  he  called  her  "a  noble-minded 
woman."  His  mahogany  and  rosewood  furniture  were 
replaced  with  common  white  wood;  and  even  the 
patchwork  quilt  was  banished  from  his  white  abode. 

The  majority  of  the  Friends  stoutly  resisted  these 
"leadings  and  guidings."  Ministers,  elders,  and  over- 


WHITE  QUAKERS. 


seers,  had  all  united  in  his  opinions,  so  long  as  they 
personally  were  not  subjected,  or  likely  to  be  so,  to  any 
restriction.  They  could  never  be  tempted  to  go  "to  a 
place  of  common  worship"  or  "to  put  on  mourning," 
&c.,  &c.,  therefore  they  fully  united  in  his  wishes  to 
shackle  "the  body."  Not  one  iota  would  they  yield 
when  it  concerned  their  own  dear  selves. 

A  person  not  well  versed  in  the  mysteries  of  Qua- 
kerism, might  imagine  that  there  was  quite  as  much 
sense,  and  religion  also,  in  obliging  every  one  to  dress 
in  white,  as  there  is  in  forbidding  any  one  to  wear 
black,  but  the  leaders  and  heads  of  the  Society  dis- 
covered so  very  important  a  difference,  that  whilst 
they  rejected  the  one,  they  retained  the  other,  and 
keep  it  enrolled  amongst  those  rules  of  which  they  say 
— "May  the  evidence  which  it  (the  Book  of  Disci- 
pline) exhibits  of  the  concern  of  the  Society,  from 
time  to  time,  to  maintain  the  profession  of  the  truth 
in  its  primitive  purity,  and  to  observe  the  precepts 
and  practices  taught  and  exemplified  by  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  commend  themselves  to 
the  consciences  and  willing  acceptance  of  all  our 
members." 

Jacob  and  his  disciples,  who  altogether  numbered 
more  than  one  hundred,  finding  they  were  not  allowed 
to  have  the  entire  governing  of  the  Society,  sepa- 
rated from  it,  and  incorporated  themselves  into  a  sect 
called  White  Quakers.  The  original  Friends,  now 
denominated  Black  Quakers,  in  contra-distinction, 


WHITE  QUAKERS. 


333 


disowned  tlie  White  Quakers,  and  thev,  in  return, 
disowned  them. 

Friends  never  engage  in  controversy,  whether  it  is 
that  they  consider  their  standing  as  a  religious  body 
so  very  high  as  to  be  above  the  test  of  Scripture, 
reason,  and  intellect ;  or  whether  an  innate  feeling 
that  their  doctrines  and  peculiarities  will  not  bear  ex- 
amination, prevents  them,  so  it  is.  The  White  Qua- 
kers challenged  them  in  vain.  Month  after  month 
they  published  a  large  tract,  entitled  "  The  truth  as 
it  is  in  Jesus,"  and  therein  asserted,  and  attempted 
to  prove,  that  they,  and  they  only,  were  the  true  fol- 
lowers of  George  Fox.  The  Friends  took  no  notice 
of  the  publication,  and  it  soon  dropped  to  the  ground. 

Following  out  their  theory,  that  they  were,  or  rather 
that  their  leader  was,  "inspired,"  in  all  his  vagaries, 
they  implicitly  obeyed  his  ''guidings."  The  White 
Quakers  had  amongst  them  people  of  wealth,  good 
family,  education  as  good  as  Friends  generally  have  ; 
and  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  so  large  a  number 
could  all  have  been  mad,  each  performing  the  strangest 
acts,  and  submitting  to  the  most  unheard  of  privations, 
as  Jacob  directed  them.  Property  was  in  common 
amongst  them,  and  Jacob  was  the  cash-keeper.  Many 
thousand  pounds  passed  into  his  hands  in  this  way. 
The  widowed  mother  of  some  young  children  was  one 
of  his  followers,  and  she  gave  up  not  only  her  own 
money,  but  also  that  to  which  her  children  were  en- 
titled on  coming  of  age.  The  relatives  of  the  chil- 
dren instituted  an  action  against  Jacob  to  oblige  him 


334 


WHITE  QUAKERS. 


to  give  up  their  property,  but  in  vain;  he  suffered  im- 
prisonment for  two  or  three  years  on  account  of  it ; 
but  gained  his  point  in  defiance  of  the  law.  I  do  not 
know  how  it  was  managed,  but  he  did  not  refund  the 
money,  and  he  obtained  his  liberty. 

One  time  he  w^ould  command  an  elderly  lady,  who 
had  been  all  her  life  accustomed  to  the  luxuries  of 
wealth,  to  go  early  of  a  cold  winter's  morning,  in  her 
scanty  white  calico  raiment,  without  shoes  or  stock- 
ings, carrying  in  her  hand  a  wooden  bowl  full  of  coarse 
stirabout,  and  eat  it  with  an  iron  spoon,  sitting  on  the 
steps  of  the  Bank  of  Ireland,  ''for  a  sign  unto  the 
people."  Another  delicate  young  woman  was  ordered 
to  wash  for  the  whole  establishment ;  unused  to  such 
hardship,  she  soon  fell  a  victim  to  it,  and  died  un- 
tended  and  uncomforted. 

The  White  Quakers  had  Meeting-houses  in  several 
different  towns.  The  police  were  often  called  on  to 
restrain  them.  They  went  into  the  "  steeple  houses," 
as  George  Fox  had  done,  to  disturb  the  congregations, 
and  "to  testify  against  men  wearing  white  shirts," 
(surplices.) 

They  also  went  into  Friends'  Meeting  to  denounce 
them. 

Three  White  Friends,  one  man  and  two  women, 
walked  up  the  aisle  of  the  Meeting-house  on  the  Sab- 
bath morning,  about  half  an  hour  after  the  assembly 
had  been  seated  in  silence ;  they  stood  quiet  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  then  exclaimed  in  very  loud  voices — 
"  Woe,  woe,  to  this  bloody  house,  and  to  this  bloody 


FAVOURITE  TEXTS. 


335 


people,"  and  then  quietly  went  awav  again.  On  other 
occasions  they  tried  to  break  up  the  Meetings  ;  and 
when  Friends  tried  to  turn  them  out,  threw  themselves 
down  on  their  backs,  and  kicked,  and  screamed,  and 
yelled,  blaspheming  and  cursing  in  the  most  awfully 
wicked  and  outrageous  manner. 

They  professed  to  be  religious  people,  and  quoted 
Scriptm*e  for  every  thing — with,  of  course,  their  own 
interpretation  attached  to  it. 

One  very  favourite  text  was — "  To  the  pure  all 
things  are  pure."  On  the  adaptation  of  this  to  them- 
selves, whom  they  considered  as  "the  pure,"  they 
indulged  in  the  most  monstrous  indelicacy  and  licen- 
tiousness. Half  a  dozen  of  them  attempted  to  parade 
the  streets  in  Waterford,  arm  in  arm,  men  and  wo- 
men without  a  vestige  of  clothing.  The  same  text 
was  Jacob's  warrant  for  changing  his  wives,  when- 
ever he  inclined  to  honour  any  of  his  female  follow- 
ers with  a  temporary  preference.  And  even  now, 
whilst  I  wi'ite,  this  scandalous  sect  exists,  and  con- 
tinues to  perpetrate  enormities  which  are  a  disgrace 
to  civilization. 

When  it  was  ascertained  that  morality  was  held  in 
light  esteem  amongst  them,  some  of  the  Friends, 
whose  wives,  had  adopted  the  White  Quaker  tenets, 
became  alarmed ;  and  with  the  assistance,  readily 
granted,  of  the  police,  they  stormed  the  abode  of  Ja- 
cob, and  forcibly  took  each  man  his  wife,  away  from 
the  den  of  iniquity. 

The  distress  which  this  schism  caused  among  the 


336 


FAVOURITE  TEXTS. 


Friends,  who  are  very  mucli  connected  by  intermar- 
riages with  one  another,  was  very  great.  Some  were 
induced  to  look  into  the  root  from  which  such  gross 
error  sprung ;  and  finding  that  there  was  indeed  the 
germ  of  fanaticism  in  the  doctrine  of  inspiration  (as 
held  by  the  Society)  apart  from  the  authority  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  have  safely  and  happily  enshrined 
themselves  in  that  comprehensive  and  most  rational 
Article  of  the  Established  Church — Holy  Scripture 
containeth  all  things  necessary  to  salvation ;  so  that 
whatever  is  not  read  therein,  nor  may  be  proved 
thereby,  is  not  to  be  required  of  any  man  that  it 
should  be  believed  as  an  article  of  faith,  or  be  thought 
requisite  or  necessary  to  salvation."  Others,  alas ! 
have  been  disgusted  at  the  exhibition ;  and  trusting 
to  their  own  common  sense,  natural  good  feeling,  and 
moral  propriety,  look  on  religion  as  only  useful  for 
fools  or  knaves. 

There  is  still  very  much  of  the  leaven  of  the  White 
Quaker  theory  in  the  Society  of  Friends.  There  is 
great  need  to  watch  its  developments.  It  does  assume 
a  more  plausible  form,  but  is  constantly  to  be  seen 
peeping  out.  A  religious  system  which  is  built  upon 
insulated  texts  of  Scripture,  is  ever  liable  to  lead  its 
votaries  astray.  Truth  may  even  become  error,  when 
separated  from  its  attendant  truth ;  and  it  appears  to 
me,  that  all  sectarianism  has  sprung  from  this  exalta- 
tion of  one  accepted  truth  over  another,  which  being 
less  palatable,  is  placed  in  comparative  abeyance  at 
first,  and  afterwards  entirely  banished,  as  inconveni- 


SIDCOT  SCHOOL. 


337 


ent  and  of  less  importance.  Thus  Friends  approve  of, 
and  often  quote — "  There  is  neither  male  nor  female, 
but  ye  are  all  one  in  the  Lord;"  whilst — "I  suffer 
not  a  woman  to  preach,"  is  never  heard  amongst 
them.  Again  :  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with 
fear  and  trembling,"  is  an  approved  doctrine;  whilst, 
"  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt 
be  saved,"  is  called  a  dangerous  text,  and  so  of  many 
other  texts. 

About  four  years  ago,  an  English  Friend  waited  on 
me,  to  request  me  to  enter  my  name  as  a  subscriber 
to  an  edition  of  the  Bible,  which  a  Committee  of 
Friends  were  intending  to  publish.  The  printed  pros- 
pectus stated,  that  the  work  was  designed  to  be  one 
suited  for  daily  perusal  in  Friends'  families ;  that 
from  it  would  be  carefully  excluded  every  passage 
that  was  indelicate  and  unfit  for  reading  aloud ;  and 
also  those  portions  which  might  be  called  dangerous, 
which  it  was  possible  the  unlearned  and  unstable 
might  wrest  to  their  o^n  destruction.  Seven  shil- 
lings and  sixpence  was  to  be  the  price  of  the  book. 
"Whether  or  not  it  was  completed  I  never  heard,  as  I 
declined  subscribing,  and  entreated  the  messenger  to 
read  the  last  chapter  of  Revelation,  before  he  made 
himself  any  further  a  party  to  so  wicked  a  scheme. 

One  more  episode  in  my  own  story  brought  my 
connection  with  the  Society  of  Friends  to  a  termina- 
tion. According  to  the  rules,  my  children  continue 
to  be  members  until  they  attain  their  majority.  Some 
kindly  disposed  Friends  wished  me  to  place  one  of 
29 


338 


PROVIDENTIAL  THUNDER  STORM. 


our  boys  at  the  Friend's  school  at  Sidcot.  We  had 
heard  much  said  in  favour  of  that  establishment,  of 
the  kind  care  taken  of  the  lads,  who  are  all  under 
fourteen  years  of  age,  and  of  the  excellent  instruction 
they  received  from  masters  and  tutors,  who  were  se- 
lected for  their  piety,  as  w^ell  as  for  their  ability  and 
superior  education.  The  Committee  of  management 
were  Friends  of  the  highest  respectability  and  stand- 
ing in  the  Society,  whose  wealth  and  influence  com- 
bined to  raise  the  school  to  perfection.  I  felt  very 
unwilling  indeed  to  intrust  my  darling  boy  to  the  care 
of  any  "Friends;"  but  that  was  ''prejudice."  I  had 
never  heard  one  Avord  derogatory  of  the  system  the 
school  was  conducted  on,  and  reluctantly  consented 
to  let  him  go,  satisfying  myself  with  the  hope,  that  if 
any  religious  instruction  was  given  to  him,  it  would 
be  good  so  far  as  it  went. 

The  preliminaries  were  all  satisfactorily  arranged, 
and  he  sailed  for  Bristol  accompanied  by  his  father. 
They  travelled  on,  and  arrived  in  safety  at  Sidcot 
School,  Somersetshire.  They  found  the  house  and 
grounds  spacious,  comfortable  and  commodious ;  just 
as  it  had  been  described  to  us.  When  the  time  ar- 
rived for  the  father  to  leave,  a  violent  thunder-storm 
came  on ;  he  was  politely  invited  to  remain  until  the 
following  morn ;  and  as  the  rain  was  tremendously 
heavy  he  consented  to  do  so.  In  the  evening  it  cleared 
up,  and  a  Quaker  lady  who  resided  near,  sent  them 
an  invitation  to  go  take  tea  with  her.  They  went. 
The  kind  Quaker  lady,  to  whom  we  owe  a  debt  of 


INDIFFERENCE  TO  SIN. 


339 


gratitude  which  can  never  be  repaid,  had  a  long  and 
private  conference  with  the  master  of  the  school. 
Nothing  then  transpired.  They  returned  to  the  school, 
and  father  and  son  were  accommodated  with  an  ex- 
cellent bed.  The  parting  was  to  be  at  ten  o'clock, 
to  meet  the  train.  At  breakfast  the  master  looked 
anxious  and  distressed ;  a  note  from  the  ladj,  at  whose 
house  they  had  taken  tea  the  evening  before,  was  put 
into  his  hands,  and  then  he  hastily,  and  as  if  over- 
ruled, requested  a  private  interview  with  the  father. 
He  then  told  what  this  good  women  had  charged  him 
to  communicate — that  the  whole  school  was  infected 
with  the  most  abominable  sin — all  were  polluted. 
Ten  minutes  sufficed  to  repack  his  trunks ;  and  my 
son  was  saved  by  the  gracious  interposition  of  Provi- 
dence, from  the  contamination  of  such  iniquity. 

On  returning  to  Bristol,  and  requesting  the  school 
Committee  there,  to  refund  the  money  which  had  been 
paid,  of  course  the  reason  was  given  for  taking  the 
child  home  again,  and  horror  and  indignation  were 
expressed  at  the  crime,  and  the  neglect  which  was 
perilling  the  souls  and  bodies  of  so  many  poor  chil- 
dren, who  had  been  confidingly  entrusted  to  their 
care. 

The  "  Friends  "  took  it  all  very  coolly.  They  were 
very  sorry  indeed  that  the  circumstance  had  been  dis- 
covered ;  but  they  hoped,  as  our  son  was  not  remain- 
ing there,  we  "  would  see  the  propriety  of  not  allow- 
ing it  to  transpire."  One  said,  "It  was  not  worth 
talking  about.    He  would  send  his  own  son  there 


340 


youths'  meetings. 


without  hesitation."  And  there  it  remains  to  the 
present  moment.  Can  it  be,  that  Friends  believe  that 
God  will  call  every  man  to  account  for  all  his  words, 
and  thoughts,  and  deeds,  and  continue  to  disregard 
his  laws,  and  to  despise  his  instructions  ?  Honoured 
and  respected  by  the  world — esteemed  for  their  in- 
dustry and  benevolence — remarkable  for  their  quiet 
and  peaceable  lives,  as  much  as  for  their  peculiar  garb 
— the  separation  in  which  they  live  from  their  fellow- 
creatures,  has  enveloped  the  Society  in  a  mantle  of 
obscurity ;  and,  by  lulling  them  to  rest  so  satisfied 
with  themselves,  and  with  the  fame  they  have  acquir- 
ed, has  conduced  to  their  present  degeneracy.  Like 
the  Laodiceans,  they  are  "rich  and  increased  with 
goods,  and  have  need  of  nothing;"  and  they  know 
not  that  they  "are  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  poor, 
and  blind,  and  naked;"  or,  in  the  words  of  our 
blessed  Saviour,  "Ye  also  outwardly  appear  righteous 
unto  men,  but  within  ye  are  full  of  hypocrisy  and 
iniquity." 

The  current  of  man's  disposition  naturally  tends 
towards  evil.  If  a  garden  be  not  dug  and  planted, 
the  weeds  will  spring  up ;  and  the  richer  and  better 
the  soil,  the  more  abundant  will  be  the  crop  of  them. 
So  with  the  heart  of  a  child — the  evil  is  natural,  the 
good  must  be  planted.  Three  times  every  year,  and 
three  times  only,  Friends  hold  what  they  call  Youths' 
Meetings,  from  ten  till  about  half-past  eleven  gene- 
rally on  a  third-day  morning.  About  half  that  time 
is  spent  in  silence ;  the  remainder  is  occupied  in  read- 


SUNDAY  SCHOOLS. 


341 


ing  some  portion  of  tlie  Book  of  Discipline,  or  the 
death-bed  scene  of  some  mmaturally  perfect  youth,  or 
advices  on  the  peculiarities  of  the  Society.  That  is 
the  only  religious  instruction  the  Friends  give  to  their 
youth ;  the  parents  may  or  may  not  give  further. 
Sunday  Schools  are  not  approved  of;  and  if  a  mother, 
feeling  her  own  incapacity  to  impart  sound  scriptural 
education,  and  aware  of  the  need  of  it  for  the  souls  of 
her  children,  dares  to  send  them  to  the  Church  School, 
she  is  sure  to  be  visited  b  y  the  overseers,  and  obliged 
either  to  give  up  her  connection  with  the  Friends,  or 
to  withdraw  her  children  from  the  Scriptural  School. 
I  have  known  repeated  instances  of  this,  and  have  ad- 
mired and  availed  myself  of  the  kind  condescension 
of  more  than  one  clergyman,  who  held  his  school  on 
the  week-day,  affording  the  Quaker  mother  an  op- 
portunity of  entrusting  her  darlings  to  his  teaching, 
unknown  to  the  overseers. 

The  indifference  with  which  the  Friends  regarded 
the  scandalous  state  of  Sidcot  School,  severed  the  last 
link  of  the  chain  which  the  remembrance  of  Quaker- 
ism, as  I  had  seen  it  in  my  father's  life,  had  bound 
me  in. 

Nobody,  unless  they  have  passed  through  the  ordeal, 
can  conceive  how  very  painful  it  is  to  feel  one's-self 
cast  off  from  all  earthly  communion  with  the  Church 
— branded  as  unfit  to  worship  God  in  the  society  of 
those  who  were  one's  fellows, — disowned  by  them,  as 
one  guilty  of  crime  which  mortals  might  not  forgive 
— slighted  in  public,  and  repulsed  in  private — ban- 
29* 


342 


BAPTISM  AND  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 


ished  from  tlieir  company  on  earth,  and  clearly  given 
to  understand,  that  into  that  heaven  which  is  prepared 
for  Friends,  I  had  no  chance  of  being  received.  I 
sought  for  admission  into  the  Church  of  England  and 
Ireland ;  and  there,  with '  all  my  family  about  me, 
found  a  ready  entrance.  Six  children,  husband  and 
wife,  were  all  baptized  together — eight  persons.  We 
entered  into  the  ark  of  Christ's  Church,  in  faith  and 
hope,  there  to  pass  through  the  waves  of  this  trouble- 
some world,  that  finally  we  may  come  to  the  land  of 
everlasting  life." 

I  had  my  Quaker  doubts  of  the  necessity  of  water 
Baptism  to  the  very  hour  in  which  I  submitted  to  it. 
But  although  it  might  be  non-essential  to  salvation,  I 
could  not  see  that  there  was  any  thing  wrong  in  the 
act  itself,  even  Friends'  writings  do  not  condemn  it 
as  sinful;  only  as  a  substitute  for  the  baptism  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  they  reject  it ;  consequently,  I  felt  quite 
willing  to  submit  my  own  judgment  in  a  non-essential 
matter,  to  the  superior  wisdom  of  the  enlightened 
Church  Divines.  On  the  doctrines  of  Baptism,  as 
well  as  on  that  of  the  Lord's  supper,  I  have  personally 
experienced  the  truthfulness  of  that  gracious  promise, 
— "If  any  man  will  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine  whether  it  be  of  God."  It  seemed  to  me  an 
ungracious  thing  to  refuse  to  do  anything,  which  by 
any  possibility  might  be  considered  as  well  pleasing 
to  the  Almighty,  becauee  the  omission  of  it  would 
not  deprive  me  altogether  of  His  salvation.    I  there- 


FUTURE  PUNISHMENT. 


343 


fore  resolved  to  do  it  as  his  will,  and  I  now  know  as- 
suredly that  those  doctrines  are  from  God. 

As  I  conceive  it  is  utterly  impossible  that  Quaker- 
ism can  survive  this  generation — that  the  enlightened 
intellect  of  the  young  people,  will  submit  to  the  dicta- 
tion of  "blind  leaders"  much  longer — and  that  com- 
mon sense  will  continue  to  yield  to  the  puerilities 
which  have  supplanted  the  restraints  imposed  upon  us 
by  the  Law  of  the  Lord  ;  so  I  would  hope  that  the  in- 
estimable value  of  the  soul,  and  the  awful  certainty, 
that  when  this  short  period  of  probation  is  over  and 
gone,  we  must  enter  either  the  realms  of  everlasting 
glory,  or  the  gloomy  dungeons  of  misery  and  despair, 
may  induce  the  great  and  intelligent  mass  of  the  So- 
ciety to  reject  the  fanaticism  which  has  already  per- 
illed their  souls ;  and  to  fly  for  safety  from  the  wrath 
to  come,  to  where  alone  it  is  to  be  found,  ''in  the 
blood  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which  cleanseth  us 
from  all  sin." 

It  is  now-a-days  considered  a  very  improper  thing 
to  speak  of  hell;  and  a  most  uncharitable  man  is  he 
deemed,  who  ventures  to  intimate  that  any  body  is  in 
danger  of  being  committed  to  its  burning  chambers. 
God  who  is  all  love,  had  told  us  there  is  a  hell  re- 
served for  the  ungodly,  as  surely  as  there  is  a  heaven 
prepared  for  the  righteous.  "  The  devil  rejoices  when 
Christians  are  silent  about  hell."  The  Society  of 
Friends  have  fallen  into  that  snare  ;  and  from  ceasing 
to  speak  of  it,  have  alas !  ceased  to  fear  it. 

"  Do  you  believe  the  Bible?  Then  depend  upon  it, 


344 


FUTURE  PUNISHMENT. 


hell  will  be  intense  and  unutterable  woe.  It  is  vain  to 
talk  of  all  the  expressions  about  it  being  only  figures 
of  speech.  The  pit,  the  prison,  the  worm,  the  fire,  the 
thirst,  the  blackness,  the  darkness,  the  weeping,  the 
gnashing  of  teeth,  the  second  death — all  these  may  be 
figures  of  speech,  if  you  please.  But  Bible  figures 
mean  something  beyond  all  question ;  and  here  they 
mean  something  w^hich  man's  mind  can  never  fully 
conceive.  Oh !  reader,  the  miseries  of  mind  and  con- 
science are  far  worse  than  those  of  the  body.  The 
whole  extent  of  hell,  the  present  sufi'ering,  the  bitter 
recollection  of  the  past,  the  hopeless  prospect  of  the 
future,  will  never  be  thoroughly  known,  except  by 
those  who  go  there." 

The  ministers  of  the  Society  of  Friends  never  speak 
of  these  things — they  are  to  them  as  though  they  were 
not ;  but  the  great  fact  remains  true  as  the  Scrip- 
tures which  reveal  it  to  us,  and  aw^ful  as  it  is  true. 

There  are  imperfections  and  infirmities  of  some  kind 
in  every  communion  on  earth.  Infallibility  is  not  for 
this  dispensation ;  for  if  the  preaching  of  Christ  which 
w^as  indeed  infallible,  did  not  bow  the  hearts  of  all  his 
hearers — if  the  eloquence  and  inspiration  of  Saint  Paul 
failed  to  subdue  his  auditors — if  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
the  infallible  word  of  the  living  God,  has  not  been  able 
to  banish  error  from  men's  minds,  how  shall  the  pot- 
sherds of  the  earth  presume  to  teach  of  their  puny 
wisdom  as  infallible  ?"  But  the  Bible  is  an  unerring 
guide  to  salvation,  and  the  "wayfaring  men,  though 
fools,  shall  not  err  therein."  If  any  man  is  willing  to 


COXCLUSIOX. 


345 


be  saved,  the  Lord  is  willing  to  save  him.  A  light 
streaming  from  the  pearl  gates  of  heaven,  illumines 
the  straicrht  and  narrow  way  which  leads  to  the  man- 
sions of  rest,  and  Jesus,  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant, 
stands  with  outstretched  hand,  to  welcome  the  weary 
pilgrim  home,  with  the  gracious  words,  "  Come  unto 
me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest." 

In  narrating  my  experience  of  what  Quakerism  is, 
I  have  endeavoured  to  draw  a  distinct  line  between 
the  body  of  the  sect,  and  the  officers  who,  in  the  name 
of  the  body,  carry  on  its  operations. 

Many  things  are  done  in  the  name  of  the  Society, 
which  the  individuals  who  compose  the  Society  would 
shrink  from  participating  in,  were  they  aware  of  what 
is  done  ostensibly  in  their  behalf.  "Whilst  the  present 
practice  continues,  the  overseers  of  each  Meeting — 
perhaps  four  or  six  indi\'iduals — do  just  what  they 
like,  and  are  irresponsible ;  whilst  the  odium  of  their 
bigotry  and  injustice  falls  on  the  whole  Society.  I 
would  therefore  in  parting  from  my  kind  Quaker  read- 
ers, suggest  the  propriety  of  requiring  all  letters  ad- 
dressed to  the  Monthly  Meetings,  to  be  read  aloud  in 
them,  instead  of,  as  now,  allowing  two  people — who 
perhaps  have  interest  in  keeping  the  communication 
secret — to  take  letters  out  of  the  Meeting-room — read 
them  by  themselves,  and  then  dispose  of  them,  either 
by  a  select  Committee,  or  by  handing  them  over  to 
the  overseers.  I  wrote  to  the  Monthly  Meeting  three 
times ;  and  am  fully  persuaded,  that  had  my  letters 


346 


CONCLUSION. 


been  read  aloud  there,  the  injustice  done  to  me  would 
not  have  been  sanctioned.  I  complained  of  the  falsity 
of  the  overseers,  and  the  overseers  themselves  were 
appointed  to  do  me  justice.  Whilst  letters  are  thus 
suppressed,  this  state  of  things  will  most  naturally 
continue.  Ministers,  elders,  and  overseers,  are  subject 
to  like  passions  and  feelings  with  other  men  and  wo- 
men, and  are  quite  as  little  likely  to  expose  their  own 
order  to  censure. 

Is  it  not  as  unmanly  as  it  is  unreasonable,  blindly 
to  allow  some  half-dozen  individuals  to  decide,  in  the 
name  of  the  whole  Meeting,  on  any  point,  without 
allowing  the  assembly  to  hear  and  judge  for  them- 
selves ?  When  it  is  resolved  to  disown  any  member, 
would  it  not  be  fair  and  just  to  allow  the  accused  to 
appear  before  the  Meeting,  and  either  to  speak  or  to 
write  in  his  own  defence  ?  The  vilest  criminal  is  al- 
lowed, in  courts  of  law,  to  say  what  he  can,  openly 
and  publicly,  for  himself;  and  shall  the  Society  of 
Friends,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  continue  to  award 
their  verdict  at  the  instigation  of  some  half-dozen,  or 
more,  individuals,  without  allowing  the  accused  to  be 
heard,  and  without  the  Meeting  itself  being  even 
made  aware  of  any  of  the  circumstances  of  the  case, 
but  such  as  these  half-dozen  individuals  think  fit  to 
bring  before  them  ? 

I  am  persuaded  that  all  the  evils  which  now  abound 
in  the  Society  have  arisen  from  the  neglect  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures. 

In  banishing  his  Word  from  the  public  assemblies, 


COXCLUSIOX. 


34T 


God  was  dishonom-ed  and  despised ;  and  he  lias  said, 
"  Them  that  honour  me  I  will  honour,  and  they  that 
despise  me  shall  be  lightly  esteemed."  Banished 
from  public  worship,  the  Bible  has  been  neglected  in 
priyate.  The  casual  reading  of  a  chapter,  or  a  psalm, 
perhaps  once  a  day,  is  a  mere  form,  and  leayes  the 
mind  untaught  in  the  Word  of  God,  and,  consequent- 
ly, exposed  and  without  defence,  to  the  attacks  of  our 
great  arch-enemy,  who  is  eyer  watching  to  seize  on 
eyery  undefended  ayenue  to  man's  heart.    St.  Peter, 
in  his  catalooTie  of  those  eicrht  Christian  yirtues  which 
are  required  to  make  '*  om-  calling  and  election  sure," 
places  "  knowledge"  the  third  highest  on  the  list ;  and 
it  is  because  the  ministers,  elders,  and  oyerseers  haye 
not  that  "knowledge,"  and  because  they  despise 
"knowledge,"  that  they  speak  and  act  as  they  now 
do.   Therefore,  my  good  reader,  if  you  are  a  Quaker, 
insist,  I  pray  you,  on  your  preachers  especially,  being 
well  yersed  in  the  Bible  ;  and  be  assm-ed,  if  they  haye 
it  in  their  heads  and  in  their  hearts,  they  will  not  ob- 
ject to  haye  it  in  their  hands  also,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, they  will  neyer  dare  to  stand  up  in  your  galle- 
ries without  holding  it  up  as  their  warrant  for  address- 
ing you. 

And,  my  good  reader,  if  you  are  a  member  of  the 
Established  Chm'ch  of  England  and  Ireland,  and  feel 
pity  for  the  ignorance  which  has  led  to  the  results  I 
haye  described,  remember,  I  pray  you,  that  whilst 
Satan  has  lulled  so  many  into  a  fatal  disregard  of  the 
knowledge  of  God's  laws,  you  haye  had  the  Holy 


348 


CONCLUIflON. 


Scriptures  openly  taught  in  jour  Churches,  and  have 
basked  in  the  beams  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness. 

The  Quaker  has  a  soul  to  be  saved  as  well  as  ano- 
ther man,  and  the  clergyman  who  has  Quakers  in  his 
parish,  will,  I  hope,  when  he  knows  how  ignorant  they 
are  of  the  true  Christian  faith,  include  them  in  his 
labours  of  love. 

And,  oh !  may  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  whose  aid  I 
have  invoked  in  writing  every  page  of  this  volume, 
condescend  to  bless  it,  and  make  it  instrumental  in 
his  cause.  When  a  garden  is  overgrown  with  weeds, 
even  a  feeble  old  woman  is  sometimes  usefully  em- 
ployed in  plucking  them  up ;  so  my  desire  has  been 
to  pluck  up  those  weeds  which  I  saw  overruning  the 
good  ground  in  this  corner  of  the  garden  of  the  Lord ; 
and  thus  help — all  roughly  though  it  be — to  prepare 
it  for  the  reception  of  that  good  seed  of  the  kingdom, 
which  the  well-skilled  husbandman  may  plant,  and 
which,  watered  with  the  dew  of  heaven,  may  yet 
bring  forth  fruit  to  the  honour  and  glory  of  God. 


THE  END. 


A  CATALOGUE 

OF 

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PUBLISHED  AND  FOR  SALE  BY 

J.  W.  MOORE, 
BOOKSELLER,  PUBLISHER,  AND  IMPORTER, 
193  CHESTNUT  STREET,  OPPOSITE  THE  STATE-HOUSE. 
PHILADELPHIA. 


THE  WORKS  OP  MICHAEL  DE  MONTAIGNE,  comprising 
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with  notes  from  all  the  Commentators,  Biographical  and 
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BURTON'S  ANATOMY  OF  MELANCHOLY.  What  it  is, 
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2 


J.  vf.  M core's  catalogue 


WEISS  ON  WATER  CURE.  The  Hand  Book  of  Hydro- 
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on  the  best  mode  of  forming  Hydropathic  estabhsliments. 
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BIBLIA  HEBRATCA.  Secundum  Editiones.  Jos.  Athiae, 
Joannis  Leusden,  Jo.  Simonis  Aliorumque,  inprimis  Eve- 
rardi  Van  Der  Hooght,  D.  Henrici  Opitii,  et  Wolfii  Heiden- 
heim,  cum  additionibus  Clavique  Masoretica  et  Rabbinica, 
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by  all  who  desire  a  Bible  that  can  be  easily  read,  all  the  vowel  points  and 
accents  are  in  their  right  places,  which  cannot  be  said  of  all  former  editions 
— and  therefore  the  student  can  never  be  in  doubt  respecting  the  letters  to 
which  they  belong." — Christian  Observer. 


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the  sixth  London  edition,  royal  8vo.,  cloth,  $3. 

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but  in  many  respects  less  garbled  than  some  of  the  separate  plays  as  pre- 
pared for  the  stage — which  can  be  recommended  to  parents  and  guardians, 
and  introduced  into  the  mixed  domestic  circle  without  hesitation  or  fear."- 
Norlh  American. 


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Schenck.    1  vol.  12mo.,  cloth,  75  cents;  fancy,  $1. 


or  VALUABLE  BOOKS. 


3 


TRAVELS  OVER  THE  TABLE  LANDS  AXD  CORDIL- 
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De  Santa  Anna.  By  Albert  M.  Gilliam,  late  U.  S.  Consul 
at  California,  Mexico.  With  Maps  and  Plates.  1  vol.  8vo,, 
cioth,  ^2. 

THE  MEMOIRS  OF  MRS.  ELIZxABETH  FRY,  Edited  by 
two  of  her  daughters.  2  vols.  8vo.,  clotli,  with  portrait, 
$3  50 ;  half  morocco,  $5. 

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doubtless  be  so  regarded  by  the  Christian  community. 

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4 


J.  w.  M gore's  catalogue 


MYSTERIES  OF  CITY  LIFE;  or,  Stray  Leaves  from  the 
World's  Book.  Being  a  series  of  Tales,  Sketches,  Inci 
dents,  and  Sermons,  founded  upon  the  Notes  of  a  Home 
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are  often  so  startling,  and  so  vividly  and  painfully  represented  to  the  mind's 
eye,  that  we  could  wish  they  were  not  facts — or  rather,  we  could  wish  there 
were  no  such  facts  really  existing  in  the  darker  vistas  of  human  life.  The 
work  is  of  that  class  which  irresistibly  captivates  the  attention  ;  and  when 
the  reader  has  once  begun,  he  must  go  through  it,  impatient  of  all  interrup- 
tion. But  the  best  remains  to  be  said:  the  book  is  unexceptionably  moral, 
and  altogether  decorous.  This,  in  the  present  state  of  literature,  is  a  very 
rare  kind  of  excellence,  and  the  praise  it  calls  forth,  is  the  most  valuable 
tribute  that  an  author  can  receive." — Pennsylvaiuan. 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE  PRETENDERS  AND  THEIR  ADHE- 
RENTS. By  J.  H.  JcssE.  (Moore's  Select  Library,  Nos.  1 
and  2.)    2  vols.  18mo.,  paper,  75  cents;  cloth,  $1  25. 


A  SUMMER'S  JAUNT  ACROSS  THE  WATER;  including 
Visits  to  England,  Ireland,  Scotland,  France,  Switzerland, 
Germany,  Belgium,  &c.  By  J.  Jay  Smith.  (Moore's  Select 
Library,  Nos. '4  and  5.)  2  vols.  18mo.,  paper,  $1  00;  cloth, 
$1  50. 

MY  OWN  HOME  AND  FIRESIDE;  being  Illustrations  of 
the  Speculations  of  Martin  Chuzzlewit  &  Co.,  among  the 
"  Wenom  of  the  Walley  of  Eden."  By  Syr.  Second  Edi- 
tion.   1  vol.  12mo.,  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  75  cents. 

"  From  the  mere  glimpse  we  have  taken  of  this  book,  it  seems  a  strange, 
powerfully  written  work,  and  has  sufficiently  arrested  our  attention  to  lay  it 
aside  for  an  attentive  and  careful  perusal." — North  American. 

"  It  abounds  in  incident,  wit,  humour,  and  pathos,  and  will  be  remarkable 
among  the  many  works  now  issuing  from  the  press." — Inquirer. 


GRAY'S  ELEGY  WRITTEN  IN  A  COUNTRY  CHURCH- 
YARD. Embellished  with  thirty-three  spirited  Illustrations, 
by  R.  S.  Gilbert.  8vo.,  embossed  cloth,  gilt,  $1  50;  Turkey 
morocco,  $3  00;  coloured  plates,  embossed  cloth,  gilt,  $2  00; 
coloured  plates,  Turkey  morocco,  $3  75. 

"  It  is  got  up  with  a  degree  of  excellence  most  creditable  to  the  enterprise 
of  the  publisher,  and  which,  the  celebrated  poem  well  deserves.  It  is  su- 
perbly printed,  on  the  very  best  paper,  and  each  leaf  contains  a  verse  of  the 
poem,  illustrated  by  a  wood-cut  in  the  highest  style  of  the  art,  engraved  by 
Gilbert,  from  designs  by  the  most  eminent  Enghsh  artists." — Pennsylvanian, 

"  The  poem  itself  is  one  of  the  most  elegant  English  compositions  nov 
extant,  and  the  style  in  which  it  is  now  offered  to  its  admirers  is  highli 
creditable  to  the  artists  and  publisher." — Morning  Post. 


or   VALUABLE  BOOKS. 


5 


SCENES  AND  ADVENTURES  IN  SPAIN,  from  1835  to 
1840.  By  Poco  Mas.  (Moore's  Select  Library,  No.  3.) 
1  vol.  18mo.,  paper,  38  cents ;  cloth,  63  cents. 

THE  PROSE  WORKS  OF  JOHN  MILTOxN,  with  a  Biogra- 
phical Introduction  by  R.  W.  Griswold.    2  vols.  8vo.,  cloth, 

m  00.   

FIRST  LESSONS  IN  FRENCH,  by  Miss  Colman,  illustrated 
with  beautiful  engravings.  Square  16mo.,  embossed  mus- 
lin, 50  cents. 

CHILD'S  FIRST  PRAYER  BOOK.  With  ten  splendid 
Plates,  beautifully  printed  in  colours.  Second  Edition.  1 
vol.,  18mo.,  75  cents. 

"  It  is  by  far  the  most  attractive  book  of  the  kind  for  children  that  we 
have  seen.  Every  page  dilfers  in  the  style  of  printing  and  illustration. 
Different  coloured  inks,  gold,  &c.,  will  please  the  eye  of  the  young  and 
lead  them  to  look  to  the  substance  of  the  volume  through  its  agreeable 
illustrations." — North  American. 

CHILD'S  DRAWING  BOOK  OF  OBJECTS:  Studies  from 
Still  Life,  for  young  pupils  and  drawing  classes ;  containing 
two  hundred  and  eighty-eight  objects.    4to.,  cloth,  $2  00. 


SMITH'S  JUVENILE  DRAWING  BOOK,  containing  the  ru- 
diments of  the  Art,  in  a  series  of  Progressive  Lessons,  24 
plates  of  subjects,  easily  copied.    Small  4to.,  cloth,  88  cents. 

HOUSEHOLD  VERSES.  By  Bernard  Barton.  Embellished 
with  a  Vignette  Title  Page  and  Frontispiece.  12mo.  Illu- 
minated covers,  new  edition,  50  cents ;  cloth,  gilt,  75  cents. 

"A  very  pretty  edition  of  the  eighth,  and,  we  believe,  last  volume,  the 
death-gift  of  the  estimable  Quaker  Poet,  a  writer  always  a  favourite  with 
the  public,  '  from  whom,'  as  he  said  himself,  '  he  never  met  with  aught  but 
courtesy  and  kindness.'  " — North  American. 

"  The  poems  of  so  sweet  a  minstrel,  should  have  a  place  in  every  well- 
selected  Library." — Inquirer. 


REMAINS  OP  WILLIAM  S.  GRAHAM ;  With  a  Memoir. 
Edited  by  George  Allen,  Professor  of  Languages  in  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania.  1  vol.  12mo.,  with  Portrait, 
boards,  75  cents ;  cloth,  gilt,  fl  00. 

"  This  is  a  most  attractive  book  in  outward  form,  and  the  interest  of  its 
contents,  in  our  esteem,  does  justice  to  its  external  appearance.  It  is  the 
fresh  wreath  which  love  and  friendship  have  intertwined  to  hang  over  the 
early  grave  of  genius.  It  is  not  the  mere  record  of  a  bright  and  sparkling 
mind,  whose  light  has  expired,  but  it  is  the  memorial  also  of  a  warm  heart, 
earnest  in  its  devotion  to  the  service  of  God  and  the  good  of  man." — Banner 
of  the  Cross. 


6 


J  .   W .   M  0  O  R  E  S  CATALOGUE 


BUNYAN'S  MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS.  1  vol.  12mo., 
cloth,  63  cents. 

AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY,  AND  LETTERS  OF  CAROLINE 
FRY,  the  author  of  "The  Listener,"  "Christ  our  Law,"  &c. 
12mo.,  cloth,  75  cents. 

"  It  is  a  work  that  any  religious  parent  might  wish  to  place  in  the  hands 
of  his  daughters,  one  that  could  scarce  fail  to  leave  a  good  and  serious  im- 
pression on  the  mind  of  a  reader." — Pittsburg  Saturday  Visitor. 

"  This  work,  as  the  title  imports,  is  an  Autobiography  of  Mrs.  Caroline 
Fry,  a  lady  distinguished  for  her  piety.  As  such  it  will  be  interesting  to  the 
Christian  world,  as  it  should  be  to  every  one." — Savamiah  Daily  Republican. 


COMMERCE  OF  THE  PRAIRIES;  or,  the  Journal  of  a 
Santa  Fe  Trader  during  Eight  Expeditions  across  the 
Western  Prairies,  and  a  Residence  of  nearly  nine  years  in 
Northern  Mexico.  By  Josiah  Gregg.  2  vols.  12mo.,  Maps 
and  Plates,  81  50. 

"  The  volumes  are  illustrated  with  maps  and  engravings  and  are  full  of 
interest  and  information.  A  more  agreeable  or  readable  book  has  not  been 
issued  from  the  American  press  for  years.  The  way-side  incidents  are  quite 
exciting,  while  the  reflections  are  sensible  and  sound." — Inquirer. 

"  The  popularity  of  these  sketches  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  the 
title  page  bears  the  imprint  of  the  fourth  edition.  It  is  very  unassuming  in 
style,  and  at  the  same  time  graphic,  exhibiting  a  phase  of  life  peculiar  to  the 
regions  it  has  undertaken  to  describe." — KeaVs  Gazette. 

WEEK  AT  GLENVILLE.  By  a  Philadelphia  lady.  With 
numerous  illustrations.  Cloth,  plain  plates,  50  cents;  cloth, 
coloured  plates,  63  cents;  cloth,  gilt  edge,  plain  plates,  63 
cents;  cloth,  gilt  edge,  coloured  plates,  75  cents. 

"This  little  work  will  be  a  favourite  with  children,  for  whose  especial 
benefit  it  was  written.  The  lady  authoress  has  succeeded  in  writing  a  book 
which  must  interest  the  youthful  mind,  and  instil  into  it  the  elements  of  pure 
morality." — Inquirer. 

CHRISTIANITY:  AND  ITS  RELATIONS  TO  POETRY 
AND  PHILOSOPHY.    12mo.,  cloth,  50  cents. 


COE'S  DRAWING- BOOK  OF  AMERICAN  SCENERY 
With  34  Views  from  Nature,  with  instructions  for  beginners 
in  Landscape.   4to.,  cloth,  $1  25. 

*'  This  is  an  excellent  work,  and  greatly  calculated  to  assist  young 
people." — Inquirer.   ^ 

FOWNE'S  PRIZE  ESSAY  ON  CHEMISTRY,  as  exempli- 
fying the  wisdom  and  beneficence  of  God.  12mo.,  cloth 
50  cents. 


OF  VALUABLE  BOOKS. 


7 


AGRICULTURxiL  BOTAXY ;  an  Enumeration  and  Description  of 
useful  Plants  and  Weeds,  which  merit  the  notice,  or  require  tho 
attention,  of  American  Agriculturists.  Bv  William  Darlington, 
M.  D.   1  vol.  12mo.,  cloth,  §1.00 

"  The  volume  is  evidently  the  result  of  much  labour  and  research,  as  well 
as  of  a  very  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  subject  considered.  It  will  be 
found  of  interest  to  the  general  reader,  and  invaluable  to  the  young  farmers 
of  the  United  States." — Inquirer. 

THE  BOOK  OF  COMMON  PRAYER.   Standard  Edition.  18mo., 

morocco,  extra,  $2.50;  morocco  extra,  bevelled  boards,  $3.50;  with 
velvet,  clasps,  and  full  mountings,  various  sizes  and  prices. 


JUST  PUBLISHED, 

THE  YOUXG  MAN'S  WAY  TO  HONOUR,  INTELLIGENCE, 
AND  USEFULNESS.  Bj  the  Rev.  A.  Atwood.  1  vol.  12mo., 
cloth,  50  cents. 

"A  work  which  should  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  every  youth,  before  he  has 
passed  his  'chrysalis  state.'" — Drawing  Room  Journal. 


ELLEN  SEYMOUR ;  or,  the  Bud  and  the  Flower.  A  Tale.  By 
Mrs.  Savile  Shepherd,  (formerly  Anne  Houlditch.)  1  vol.  12mo., 
cloth,  88  cents. 

"  An  admirably  told  tale.  The  interest  continually  increases  as  you  advance, 
till  it  becomes  wellnigh  impossible  to  lay  the  volume  down." — Cincinnati 
Herald. 

THE  THEORY  OF  EFFECT;  embracing  the  Contrast  of  Light 
and  Shade,  of  Colour  and  Harmony.   By  an  Artist.  With  fifteen 
illustrations  by  Hinckley.    12mo.,  cloth,  50  cents. 
"  The  author  writes  clearly,  felicitously,  and  with  a  complete  mastery  of  his 

subject." — Philadelphia  Advertiser. 


IN  PRESS, 

CHAMBERS'S  PAPERS  FOR  THE  PEOPLE.    12  vols.,  fancy 
boards. 


THE  SPECTATOR.    New  edition.    4  vols.  12mo.,  cloth. 


8 


CATALOGUE    OF    VALUABLE  BOOKS. 


IMPORTATION  OF  FOREIGN  BOOKS. 


J.  W.  MOORE  continues  to  import  either  old  or  new  books 
in  the  different  departments  of  Literature,  by  the  single  copy 
or  in  quantities,  (on  the  most  favourable  terms,  and  with  the 
greatest  despatch,)  for  the  Trade,  Colleges,  and  Literary  and 
Professional  Gentlemen.  If  by  steamer,  in  about  thirty  days; 
if  by  packet,  at  a  less  expense,  in  about  fifty  or  sixty  days. 

Through  his  agent  in  London  he  is  able  to  give  the  most 
careful  attention  to  all  orders  from  private  individuals,  Book- 
sellers, and  Public  Institutions.  An  order  for  a  single  volume 
will  always  receive  the  same  attention  as  larger  orders. 

ORDERS  FORWARDED  BY  EVERY  STEAMER, 

And  if  the  books  can  be  readily  procured,  they  will  be  received 
by  return  steamer. 

FOREIGN  PERIODICALS  AND  NEWSPAPERS. 

All  the  leading  Periodicals  and  Newspapers  of  the  Continent 
supplied  with  punctuality  and  on  the  most  reasonable  terms. 
Subscribers  at  a  distance  will  have  their  copies  regularly 
mailed  to  their  address. 

BOOKS    IMPORTED    TO   ORDER   FROM  LONDON, 
LEIPSIC,    AND  PARIS. 


A  CATALOGUE 

OF  A  VERY  EXTENSIVE  COLLECTION  OP 

STAN  DARD  WORKS, 

IN  EVERY  DEPARTMENT  OF  LITERATURE,  SCIENCE,  AND  ART, 

MOSTLY  ENGLISH  EDITIONS, 

NOW   IN  PRESS. 

It  will  be  sent  gratis  on  application,  POST  PAID. 

Country  Booksellers  supplied  with  all  Foreign  and  American 
Publications  at  a  small  commission  on  cost,  and  all  orders 
executed  with  despatch. 


DATE  DUE 

CAVLORD 

PKINTCO  IN  U  S  A. 

